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Wfyt #reat Christian i^acrifite. 


Quid enim sunt aliud corporalia Sacramenta, nisi quaedam quasi verba visibilia?" 

St. Augustin. 



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" Omnes Sancti et Electi Dei, qui jam revelata, facie, in 
patria, visione beata aspicitis, et pleno jam ore manducatis 
Panem ilium, quern nos nonnisi per speculum in aenigmate 
conspicimus, et aliena specie velatum accipimus ; vos enim 
felices portum tenetis, ad quern nos miseri tendimus ; 6 quot 
inter tempestates et pericula Viatico egemus, ut superemus ! 
Viaticum Christus est ; Via utique, Veritas, et Vita, et unicum 
solatium peregrinationis nostrse." — Paradisus Animce. 





The Illustrations of this book have been done in the only way which 
the writer found practicable ; and if they serve to embody and con- 
vey the thoughts and intentions of the work, it is all that he could 
expect. The undertaking is but experimental ; and although formed 
upon the model of an ancient and foreign publication, yet the 
adapting it to our own Church has been in many cases like forming 
a new work. It is intended to confine the attempt to a very limited 
circulation, and it will be sufficient if it should meet the approbation 
- of those who lament how much the system of symbolical adaptation 
has been lost to our branch of the Church ; and yet how Scriptural 
and Catholic it is, and how sure to appear in some shape or other 
when devout feelings are awakened. Such persons, in the holy 
thoughts which it suggests, will forget the inadequate execution of 
the design. And perhaps among them some one may be found 
who will be able to carry it out to a greater perfection. 

The work itself may be considered as nothing else but a lively 
and poetic representation of the saying of Thomas a, Kempis : " So 
great, so new, and so joyful ought it to seem unto thee, when thou 
celebratest or partakest in these Holy Mysteries, as if on this same 
day Christ hanging on the Cross "did suffer^and die for the salvation 
of mankind." 

But with regard to the particular parts of the symbolical repre- 
sentation ; — there are some persons who seem naturally incapable of 
entering into such analogies; and even among those who are dis- 
posed to appreciate them, some may think, there is sometimes but 
little grounds of correspondence, on which to found the connexion. 
But it must be considered that where the adaptation is continuous 
and successively sustained both in the history of the Passion above 
and in the Divine Office below, it must necessarily be the case that 
in some points the application should be less appropriate, and even, it 
may be, sometimes appear forced and constrained. But the analogy 
upon the whole, and correspondence to our own Service, is sustained 
almost, if not quite, as well as it is in the work from which it is 
taken ; and, indeed, the adaptation is in many instances the same. 
If, again, any should doubt the propriety of at all altering the ori- 


ginal work by a new adaptation, and thus appropriating to ourselves 
what was intended for another Communion Service, it must be 
observed, that although the principle of a symbolical application is 
generally received in the Church from which it is taken, yet the 
particular points thus applied, and the mystical sense thus given 
them, does not appear to be always the same in their own publica- 
tions ; and therefore it may be considered as in some degree 
arbitrary. It would have been, for some reasons, better to have 
selected the Communion Office of the Church of Scotland for a pur- 
pose so sacred instead of our own ; but this would have detracted 
from one great object of the work, which is, to connect such 
associations with a service in familiar use, so as to afford practical 
lessons to ourselves. Add to which, it appears a part of dutiful piety 
to make the best of what it has pleased God to afford us, and the 
reverential improvement of which seems the most dutiful way of 
obtaining our lost privileges, and of strengthening the things that 
remain ; while we hold fast the better part, or pray for its restora- 
tion and lament its loss. 

The poetry which has been introduced has for the most part 
no other connexion with the general design, than that it takes the 
various subjects of our Lord's Passion for the objects of devout con- 
templation, as they successively arise in the pictures. In the 
illustrations of the Communion Service the cope has been substituted 
for the dress usually worn. It being the ecclesiastical garb required 
by our canon in Cathedral and Collegiate Churches, and still in use 
at our coronations, may be a sufficient sanction for its introduction ; 
but it has not been used merely for these reasons, nor in order to 
recommend the adoption of it, whether advisable or not ; but it may 
be remarked of such pictures, as of forms of speech, that the more 
antiquated and " foreign" (to use Aristotle's expression) are often 
most suitable to poetry, especially on subjects of the affections. 
With regard to the opposite side of these pictures, it may be taken 
to represent the Communion of Saints, knit together in one Body, as 
partaking of that one Bread ; and holding the Head as signified by 
the Prayers which are successively inserted between the two figures. 
The introduction of so many of these names into our own calendar 
is a sufficient indication that we may be allowed in some measure to 
consider as our own such Saints of the Universal Church. 

January 16th, 1847. 




THE GARDEN II. . . . 5 













" BEHOLD THE MAN !" . . . XV. . . . 57 























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oeseeeh thee, Lord, pour Thy », 
wn the Incarnation, of Thy Son ^ 
H, so by his crofs anoZ pafsion, vse 
■Trecbion, through the sarn^. 

"W€( 9 ra - ce ^■ nio our hearts, thai, as we have 
{' '" Jesus Christ by the mefsage of any 

fj may be brought unto the glory of His 

W Jestcs Christ over LoroL. 

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" I was left alone, — and there remained no strength in me." 

Lord, who for us wert pleased to appear 
Shorn of Thy glories on that dreadful night, 
And in that terrible eclipse of light 

To know the agonies of mortal fear, 

In human sympathies thus to draw near 

To us Thy creatures ; — and e'en now in sight 
Entering the cloud of sorrows infinite 

At that dread gate of anguish, black and drear, 
Didst bid Thy friends adieu, while far below, 

Cedron, that brook of sorrows, 1 fled away, 
Sighing in dark affright ; — in all our woe 
Be with us, when beneath th' approaching rod 

Of our own sins we tremble, in that day 

When man must stand alone to meet his God. 

Conf. 2 Sam. xv. 23, 30; St. John xviii. 1. 



" Thine eyes are upon me, and I am not." 

In these Thy sad bereavements, stripp'd of all, 
Thou she west in Thyself great Nature's law, 
Whereby, as sinful man doth onward draw 

To God his Maker, and doth hear His call, 

He turns into corruption ; all things fall 
From off him and depart, with silent awe, 
As if the Invisible he nearer saw, 

Whose Presence guilty Nature doth appal ; — 
Which doth recoil with horror at the brink, 
And in herself again in silence shrink ; — 

For death is but the unclothing of the soul ; 

As it approaches Him, its final goal, 
Earthly adherences turn to decay, 
His Spirit on them blows, 1 — they pass away. 


" They feared as they entered into the cloud." 

Where else but in Thy sorrows shall we find 
The healing of our own, in that deep fear 
Which flesh is heir to ; in the coming near 

Of that dread hour, when we must leave behind 

Those who have grown into our inner mind, 
Associates by our pilgrimage made dear, 
To enter that dark cloud, where eye and ear 

To scenes without are closed, and have resigned 
The things of day and night, with keener sense 

To open to the things which are within ; — 
To that unearthly stillness, more intense, 

Where man must meet his Maker, and be known, 

Commune and answer with his God alone, 
Of judgment, and of sorrow, and of sin. 

i Isaiah xl. 7. 


" Lord, it is good for us to be here." 

Then with Thy Finger and Thy Blood imbue 

This lesson on the tables of our heart, 

Which often all in vain Thy words impart, 
That we to earthly friends must bid adieu 
In heaven-ward turn'd affection ; keep in view 

This night of Thy sad parting ; and thence know 

The art to hold more loosely all below, 
Lest with ourselves the loss of them we rue. 

So may we better learn to be with Thee, — 
Not when Thy visage was with glory starr'd 
On Tabor, but with awful sorrows marr'd, 
Thy Father's countenance from Thee debarr'd, — 

To share Thy griefs, and with that favour' d three 

Enter the gate of sad Gethsemane, 


Enter thou into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee : hide thyself as it 
were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast." 

But onward yet — a little onward still — 

Must we withdraw from kindred and from friends 
To know that mystery which thought transcends : 

Therefore so oft to wilderness or hill 

Did our High-Priest retire, Who knew no ill, 
To teach that he who 'neath the burden bends 
Of sore transgressions, — knowing not the ends 

Of love or hate, 1 which shall the chalice fill 
Of his eternity, — hath so great need 

To seek for refuge, that he must forego 

And cast aside all shadows, which below 
The undisturbed vision may impede 
Of that unseen hereafter ; and give heed 

To those realities he soon must know. 

1 Eccles. ix. 1. 



" Thou art a place to hide me in." 

And therefore now, in this dread interval, 
Ere we in Judgment before God appear, 
Whene'er I to Thine altar would draw near, 

In solemn preparations would I call 

On solitude and silence ; and from all 

Withdrawn, which wakens here love, hope, or fear, 
Commune alone with mine own self, and hear 

Thine awful whisper in the judgment-hall 
Of mine own secret soul, that cavern deep 
Whence issue streams of life. So may I weep, 

And in Thy tabernacle long to hide 

From the world, from myself, and from my sin ; 

And where the door is open in Thy side, 
With eager arms outstretching enter in. 



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ft^*'*' &<&st ordained and constituted the services 

£? wonderful order,- mercifully grant, 3iab 

'fjda Thee service in heaven ; so by Thy ap- 

\f defend us on earth through Jesus Christ ourZord 

L^SS^hn Amen. 




" The Lord is in His holy temple ; let all the earth keep silence before Him. 

The stars are silent o'er our heads above, 
The graves are silent 'neath our feet below, 
And silent are the deepest thoughts we know ; 

Silent our God, in Whom We live and move ; 

And silent the unutterable Love 

That pleads for man, while he still to and fro 
In busy noise and loud tumultuous show 

Is hurrying day by day, as if he strove 

To drown that Voice which to his heart is given ; 

Yet wheresoe'er Thy Spirit wakes him, there 
Is stillness as of stars in summer even. 

Thus round Thine unseen throne still every where 

Unutterable silence speaks Thy prayer, 

" Thy will be done on earth, as 'tis in Heaven." 



" He shall see of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied." 

" Father, not Mine own will, but Thine be done," 
Thrice spoken, and in speaking thrice fulfill' d ; 
And so what e'er the Human nature will'd 

Is lost in the Divine, and made all one, 

In perfect love and perfect union : 

The o'errunning cup is drain' d, no drop is spill' d, 
Each thought in perfect resignation still' d : 

The beatific crown for us is won, — 

The Manhood join'd to Godhead. Thus to grieve ! 
Thus even from a creature to receive 

One gleam of consolation sent from Heaven, 
One drop to lighten that o'erwhelming cup, 
Or strengthen the weak Hand that raises up 

The bitter chalice, — which to us is given ! — 

" A sore burden, too heavy for me to bear." 

Given to us sinners, our due penalty, — 

But ta'en by Him and drunk for all mankind : 

And worse than bleeding scourge or thorn entwin'd, 
The wounded spirit's secret agony, 
Which yields itself to death, yet dreads to die. 

There is a weight upon each mortal mind ; 

The good, to their own burden oft resign' d, 
To bear some brother's burden fain would try ; 

But He doth bear the burden of us all. 
Yet why that lamentable thrilling moan ? 

The earth is weak, and trembling to her fall, 
And her inhabitants are feeble grown, 

Like wither' d leaves at winter's early call. 
He beareth up its pillars all alone. 



Why shouldest Thou be as a man astonied, as a mighty man that cannot save?' 

Yea, where else shall we find a solitude 
Equal to this ; in this His Paradise, 
In this the garden of His agonies, 
Wherein alone the Second Adam stood, 
Wherein alone He kneel' d down, sweating blood, — 
From Him withdrawn all human sympathies, 
And bliss Divine all hidden from His eyes, 
In wrath for our transgressions ! Only good, 
He bows beneath the wickedness of all, 
And prays like some sin-burden' d criminal : 
While groans of sick creation through all time, 
And all the woes that flow'd from Adam's crime, 
Concentrate were in that dread agony, 
And found their utterance in that sad cry. 


" I have trodden the wine-press alone." 

Thus our High-Priest enters the holy place 
With His Own Blood to intercede ; and now 
Calls us to join with Him, and leaves below 

His prayer, and His example, and His grace ; — 

His Spirit in our hearts, in this short space 
Given for repentance. Thus He bids us know 
His groanings of unutterable woe, 1 

And 'neath the cloud of God's averted face 

Mourns in our heart of hearts. awful scene ! 

Where our High-Priest, as if within the vail, 
By us below is interceding seen, 

In that dark night of anguish kneeling pale, 
With crying, and with tears, and failing breath, 
Pleading with Him Who can redeem from death. 2 

1 Rom. viii. 26. 2 Heb. v. 7. 



" He sitteth alone, and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon hirn. He 
putteth his mouth in the dust ; if so be there may be hope." 

Lord, unto me Thy warning Voice reveal, 

Lest the world steal my heart, and hide the theft ; 
But, of her soft appliances bereft, 

May I in that bereavement learn to feel 

That one thing still is given me — thus to kneel 
And be as Thou ; that one thing still is left — 
That where Thy Flesh is rent, the Rock is cleft, 

Thy Hand may for a while from man conceal 
What I am now, what I have been before. 

And I, if I may find a refuge there, 

May oft and oft repeat that holy Prayer, 
Closing the door ; and while I thus explore 
The deeps of sad self-knowledge, more and more 

Humiliation learn, but not despair. 


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(?<?<£, Wi0 inThine unspeakable -pro- 
vidence, oZeiqnest to send Thy holy Angels 

for our protection, vouchsafe,we beseeehJ 

Thee, thai being defended here ielow by 
their ministrations, we may hereafter rejoice 

in. their eternal society; through our Lord 

Jesus Christ, %cc. Sec. 

'■"*" God, Who givest us to commemorate 

on this day the wonderful birth of Thy 

'faithful servant JohnBapUstgrant that 

we may attain to the grace of spiritualjoys; 

and direct Thou Thy faithfUl servants into 

P* the way of everlasting saZvaHo7i;throicgh 
the same our Lord ice. 




My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me. This I recal to 
mind, therefore have I hope." 

Teach me with Thee to mourn, — from Thee to learn 

The comfort of the mourner 1 on that day : 

From Thy pure Presence let one piercing ray 
Lighten our darkness, that I may discern, 
And with that in extinguish' d fire may burn 

The foul black spots within me, — sins that weigh 

With burden of an infinite dismay 
On Thy sad soul, that knows not where to turn 

From the big load of our unnumber'd sins, 
Which comes upon Thy spirit's solitude, 

As when some storm-fraught thunder-cloud begins, 
Falling upon the ground with drops of blood. 

Oh, bind me to Thine altar, that no more 

I add each day I live to that sad store. 

i St. Matt. v. 4. 



" If it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." 

" In sweat of thine own brow thou shalt eat bread ;" 
This was man's penalty ; and here he lies, 
Driven from that Garden of his Paradise, 
Here in the wilderness, as one half-dead, 
With sweat of blood upon His Body shed, 
That we may in that costly Sacrifice 
Eat of Life's Bread, and know its countless price, 
With bitter herbs and sorrow. While our Head 
Is thus bow'd low unto the very ground, 
Oh, may we learn the lesson most profound 
Contain' d in that His prayer ; and from the sight 
Know that mysterious penalty aright — 

The cost of that true Bread His death shall give, 
Whereof alone lost man can eat and live ! 


" Not as the world giveth, give I unto you." 

Then take Thou us beneath those sheltering wings, 
Where God and Man at every bleeding pore 
Hath open'd for our sins Thy pardon's door ; 

We touch, see, feel our God, while memory clings 

To every part which meditation brings 
Before us ; thus the cup that floweth o'er 
With these Thy sorrows is for evermore 

The cup wherein our health and gladness springs. 
The cup we give to Thee is deadly wine, 

Made of the poisonous grapes our sins have borne ; 
Thou givest in return the cup Divine, 

Full of Thy love ; and for the thorny crown 

We give to Thee, Thou givest to Thine own 
Wreaths bright with radiance of celestial morn. 



" Behold, I come as a thief. Blessed is he that watchetb." 

For me, then, is this awful Sacrifice, 

That Thou art drooping low, and dropping blood, 

In this the stillness and the solitude 
Of that dread hour, and every drop the price 
Of thousand souls ; and yet returning thrice, 

In love for those who in an hour so rude 

Were sleeping 'neath that dark green olive-wood, 
With that still quiet voice of meek advice ! 

With wayward man He ever gently pleads, 
But forces not his will, though standing by : 

And yet for him, e'en while He speaks, He bleeds 
At every vein, as seeing dangers nigh, 
While he unconscious looks up vacantly, 

And nought discerns, then sleeps, and little heeds. 


" And what I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch." 

Within the lowest deep a lower deep 
Receives the penitent in true self-hate, 
Whose heart the thoughts of Thee shall penetrate ; 

Who more and more would fain his bosom steep 

With rays of light from heaven, and wake to weep 
The sins that fold themselves in our dark state, 
Lest that e'en now our foes be at the gate, 1 

And at our going hence arouse from sleep, 
And summon us to bondage. While our eyes 

Are weigh' d down by a seeming false repose 

By spirits of darkness, He our danger knows. 

But from this fathomless abyss of woes 
Who shall raise up the Maker of the skies, 
Fall'n to the ground in speechless agonies ? 

1 Psalm cxxvii. 6. 



" Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none. 

Thus hast Thou from Thy Father's bosom come 
To empty all Thy glories, and from sight 
Of Thine own Godhead every drop of light 

Shut out, to take on Thee a sinner's doom ! 

No star of light amid the o'erwhelming gloom ; 
Save when upon the blackness of that night, 

Which compass' d Thee as with a living tomb, 
One little streak grew brighter and more bright, 

An angel's wing, like one soft crystal spar 

Of light from heaven. But now that gentle star 

Is scared and fled, for up the steep afar 

There gleam sulphureous torches lit from hell : 
The lights in heaven are all invisible, 
And rising Moon withdraws into her cell. 


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OLord, Who didst confer on Thy blessed 

Apostle Saint Peter the keys of the kingdorr 
of Heaven.withpower to bind and to loose, 
Grant that, continuing in the Apostles' 
doctrine and fellowship, wemay be released 

from, the bonds of our sins. Who Uvest and 
reignest with the Father anol the Holy Ghost, 

ever one God, world without end. 

God, Who, through the preaching of the 
blessed Apostle S?Paul, hast caused the 
Tight of the Gospel to shine throughout the 
world,- Grant, we beseech Thee , that we, 
'having his Wonderful conversion m remem- 
bromce.may shew forth our thankfihvefs urCto 
Thee for the same, by following the holy 

octrine which he taught;, through Jesus Chrislth. 





" First be reconciled to thy brother." 

And now, from pleading with Thy God above, 
To us who caus'd Thy death, resign' d to die, 
Thou turnest, veiling all Thy majesty 

That we may come to Thee ; with words that prove, 

Or tender offices that fain would move 
Affectionate returns, and bring us nigh. 
Let not this day of Thy humility 

Tempt us to tread beneath our feet Thy love ; 
But if Thou to Thy Table wilt receive, 
Let nought within us Thy good Spirit grieve ; 

But wash us clean as guests to sit with Thee ; 

Grant us the nuptial robe of Charity, 
And feet with holy preparation shod, 
Lest we for Esau's portion sell our God. 



" The blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel." 

The gentle Lamb that licks the slaughterer's hand — 
With kiss of peace to the arch-traitor given, 
And meekly laid the healing touch of Heaven 

On that fierce leader of the midnight band ! 

When one word only would at Thy command 
Scatter as chaff before the whirlwind driven ; 
Or, as the lightning opes the summer even, 

Disclose the angelic hosts which round Thee stand ; 
Thou meekly didst Thy victim head incline, 
Mid tenderest offices of love Divine ; 

True Abel, offering up Thyself to die 

Into fraternal hands ! Not yet is dry 

The Blood in mercy pleading from the ground 

For those who now with murderous hands surround. 


" Fear ye not : stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord." 

But that good Galilean, brave and bold, 

Arm'd for heroic deeds of high emprise, 

Has yet to learn his Master's charities, 
Where disenthrall' d from Judas' treacherous hold 
On Malchus' ear He lays His hand, now cold 

With death's dank sweat, and lifts in prayer His eyes. 

But other thoughts in Peter's breast arise 
Than doth become the shepherd of the fold, 

While love and courage all his bosom fires, — 
Ready to go to prison and to death. 

Be still, and check a while thy high desires ; 
Put up again thy sword within its sheath ; 

One little thing alone thy Lord requires, — 
Not to deny Him at a woman's breath. 



" Look how high the heaven is in comparison of the earth." 

Thus turnest Thou to us, as if to shew 

The unspeakable example of God's love ; 

High as heaven's pillars rise the earth above, 
So that surpasseth all the love we know, 
And all our bounds of mercy doth o'erflow. 

His malice and Thy love together strove, 

As if uncertain which at last should prove 
Master in that contention. Still e'en now 

Warning and watching in kind ministry, 
Washing his feet, and giving the true Bread, 

And the last kiss of love ; — yet all for nought. 

love to perfect consummation brought, 
A willing Victim thus led forth to die 

For them by whom His holy Blood is shed ! 


" Greet ye one another with a kiss of charity." 

This lamb-like spirit and this hallow' d kiss 

Admitted to Thine altars thus of old, 1 

The symbol, rite, and passport to the fold : 
Union of souls which knew the chasten' d bliss 
Of mutual pardon given, nor thought amiss. 

Pledge of true love, that turneth all to gold, 

E'en like that fabled rod in story told : 
This is that love that hallows all things ; this 

The odorous spikenard of the costly price, 
Whose fragrance fills the world unto the end ; 

The salt that seasons every sacrifice ; 
The fire which on the altar doth descend ; 
That love's communion sweet, which cannot blend 

With hearts that harbour deadly avarice. 

1 See St. Cyril's Lectures, xxiii. 3. 



" God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him." 

True Love, which hopeth all things, all things beareth, 
Fairest of all that have walked forth on earth, 
And left the calm of heaven where she had birth, 

Humility's first-born, — for she appeareth 

Like Mercy's self, what time from heaven she heareth 
Repentance's meek prayer, and leaneth down. 
Of all the graces origin and crown ; — 

True love of God, which loving ever feareth, 
So feareth that she feareth nought beside 
With that fear which hath torment. Of the Bride 

Bright robe, and image of the Father's love ; 
As when within some little watery sheen 

Dwells the reflection of the heavens above, 

And the Moon walks the cloudless deep serene. 

mi*~**L. - - 

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Be Thou, OZord, Ike Sarvctifitr 
and Guide of Thy faithful people, f v 
That following the holy conversations 
of Thine Apostie SP James, they may ever 
serveThee vrith a quiet mind-.ihrough our 
Lord Jesus Christ Ww ever -tiveth and 
reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost^ 
ever one God, world without end. 

Merciful Lord, we heseech Thee 
lo cast Thy trighJt teams of light 
upon Thy Church, that it t 
^ediythe doctrine of Thy 
lt§ and Evangelist SPJohn, may so walk in, 
the light of Thy truth, Thai it may at 
length aZtain, to the light of ever- 
lasting life ; through Jesus Christ ourLord. 




" Mine enemies are driven back; they shall fall and perish at Thy presence." 

The quiet night, wherein no sound was heard 
Save that meek prayer to sorrow reconciled, 
To sounds discordant wakes, and tumult wild 

Of banded foes approaching : Night's lone bird, 

By lantern, torch, and noise unwonted stirr'd, 
Flaps overhead his wing, with movement mild, 
Yet terror strikes in souls by guilt defil'd ; 

The power of darkness reigns ; fears long interr'd 
Rise up and walk the gloom : His words have thrill' d 

To hearts which no misgiving knew before ; 
A spell unspeakable hath all things still' d, 
And unimagined awfulness hath fill'd : 

Those words have power to stop the ocean's roar, 

And wake the dead that they shall sleep no more. 




" The Breath of our nostrils, the Anointed of the Lord, was taken in their pits. 

A momentary terror seem'd to steep 

Their senses, and a felt unearthly power 
Before their lowly Victim made them cower — 

Like pause that ushers in the thunders deep. 

But now the spirits of darkness o'er them lower, 
And turn their tongues to triumph, as they creep 
Nigh to the city's gates, which guilty sleep 

Stills to false slumbers in its destined hour. 
Now gibe they cast, and scoff, and blasphemy 

On the Divinest Stranger. He doth yield 
To rudest violence His harmless Head, 
Like a defenceless Lamb to slaughter led, 

That He may o'er us cast His sheltering shield, 
And from nocturnal terrors set us free. 


"Thou hast led captivity captive." 

Thou art thus captive led our hearts to move, 
And draw us unto Thee, that we our hands 
May yield, and on our necks put Thy love-bands 

For Thy commandments thus as cords may prove 

To lead us to that city's gates above, — 

That city which is paved with Thy commands, 
The gold and agate of celestial lands. 

For heaviest chains are render' d light by love ; 
And therefore art Thou thus all rudely bound, 

That we may in our bonds remember Thee ; 
And Thee remembering, ever may be found 

Thy willing captives rather than be free 
With the bad world — the fuller to abound 

In Thy blest gift of heavenly liberty. 


" The year of My redeemed is come." 

wonderful fulfilment ! is this He 

Who comes down to announce th' eternal year 1 
Of our release, to liberate from fear, 

To ope the gates and set the prisoner free, 

And is Himself our very Jubilee ; 

Yet thus as some bruised Captive doth appear, 
As one weighed by oppression most severe, 

And needing all the power of liberty ! 

Thus He Himself, wondrous sight ! is found 
With darkness and with chains encompass' d round, 
Who comes to pour the light on blinded eyes. 
Yet thus it is He brings to earth the skies, 
That wheresoe'er a prisoner now remains 
He may be with him in his silent chains. 


"If the Son shall make you free, then are ye free indeed." 

Yes, in the eyes of false-discerning men 
A helpless captive, but meanwhile His own, 
To whom th' Almighty Father hath made known 

The mysteries of things that are unseen, 

Beholding Him with undisturbed ken 

Discern their God, come down from His high throne 
To teach us one great lesson — one alone — 

" Learn thou of Me, for I am meek," and then 
Thou shalt, 'mid troubles, find thy spirit's rest. 

Think of no other freedom but the mind 

To her deservings patiently resign' d : 

And thou shalt find His Godhead manifest, 
Until the weight of sorrows makes thee blest, 

Injurious provocations render kind. 

1 St. Lukeiv. 21. 




Oil that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep 
day and night." 

And yet while I do thus in bonds behold 

My Maker and my Judge all lowly bent, 

And see in Him the Great Omnipotent, 
Thus bowed to bring us back unto the fold, 
My sorrow is unmoved, my heart is cold, — 

No stern repentance hath my bosom rent ; 

My tears long since are dried, my feelings spent, 
As at a tale of this world often told. 

But if I grieve at this my want of grief, 

Thou wilt unto those sorrows bring relief 
Which are from want of sorrow, and again 
Kindle within my heart that living pain, — 

Yearnings of penitential sad belief, 
Which ever on my spirit may remain. 



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fftai is toett plm$in# nnto^fy 

ST Andrew. ] 

£00?, ?J%0 gavest thy 
blessed Apostle S* Andrew to become 00 
Treacher and Ruler vn Thy Church, we hu/ribl 
beseech Thy My'esly, that we also may ever 
obey Thy call in Ttoly obedience- through our 
Lord Jesus Christ Sec. fc. 


Grant, Lord, we pray Thee., 
that aswe hold in memory Thy blessed 
'Apostle S^TTwrnas ,so we may follow htm hy 
shev/ing forth devout offection according to 
\ourfaUh ; through our Lord Jesus Christ be. 






By the blood of Thy covenant I have sent forth Thy prisoner out of the pit 
wherein is no water." 

And now to make Thy bondage more secure, 
They take Thee in triumphant mockery 
Unto the house of Annas, standing by, 

Bandying from place to place with hands impure, 

To render condemnation doubly sure, 

Far from all human help, and heap on high 
The gathering load of that night's misery. 

Yet Thou didst willingly those chains endure 
Upon Thy spotless Body in Thy love, 
If only Thou might' st so our ransom prove, 

When we before the accuser shall be brought, 

Silent as criminals and pleading naught 

But the great ransom Thou for us hast wrought, 
And the returns of love which in us move. 


Whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, this man shall 
he blessed in his deed." 

For love of Thee is our true liberty ; 

And when we rightly love Thee and adore, 

Thy law is then captivity no more, 
But gladsome service most divinely free, 
In perfect freedom, like the ministry 

Of those in Heaven who are for ever bound 

By blissful adoration most profound, 
And know no other joy but serving Thee. 

For then their freedom is indeed divine, 

When doing their own will they follow Thine. 

Thus Thy law is no bondage when within 

Is love that giveth life ; chains wrought by sin 

Then vanish as the ice before the sun, 

And full of glowing life the waters run. 


" Whoso committeth sin is the servant of sin." 

But more and more those iron bonds increase, 
When, setting Thy commandments all at naught, 
In the imaginings of our own thought 

We follow our own will, nor seek release. 

Then if upbraidings of Thy Spirit cease, 
"lis that those fetters grow into the soul, 
Part of ourselves, infect our being whole ; 

Those chains become ourselves — we are at peace. 
Then by those bonds which Thou for us didst wear, 
And by the blows which Thou for us didst bear, — 
When as some blood-stain' d, night-caught crhninal 
Within that house of bondage set in thrall, 
Before that Pharaoh our Redemption stood, — 
Save me from that Egyptian servitude. 



" And the servant abideth not in the house for ever." 

Thy law hath bound me with a living band, 
And in the dead of night, when all is still, 
E'en like a thief, with footsteps dark and chill, 

The great accuser shall before me stand, 

And lift against me the upbraiding hand 

In presence of the Judge ; then vain the skill 
That ever waits upon the tortuous will, 

With ready self-deceivings at command, 
To extricate, excuse, and to explain. 
Nay, 'tis our will itself which is the chain 
That binds us hand and foot, and doth remain 

Drawing us, while we think not, to the gloom, 

Till bondage doth itself become our home, 

And thwarted will our everlasting doom. 

looked, and there was none to help; and I wondered that there was none to 
uphold; therefore Mine own Arm brought salvation." 

I gaze, and gazing tremble at the sight, 

To see Thee, Who dost sit at God's right hand, 
Bound by an impious rabble, thus to stand 

Before Thy creature ! Yet 'twas Thou this night, 

In love and lowliness most infinite, 

Didst kneel, to teach us this, love's last command, 
And therefore now to Thee compulsion's band, 

So grievous, is for our sakes sweet and light. 
strange fulfilment of the truths enroll' d 
In scrolls of Prophets, and set forth of old 
Through imaged types and shadows manifold. 

Now these are set apart. Thyself I see 

The mirror made of perfect liberty, 

Thyself the living Type that teachest me. 


" Who shall separate us from the love of Christ ?" 

What is the lesson which these sights impart ? 

That there are bonds to man invisible 

Framed in Heaven, which have a mighty spell 
To hold by secret influential art 
Him Who was God and Man, — to bind the heart 

With meek obedience, such as none can tell ; — 

Those chains are love — are love invincible, 
Which from God's Altar suffer not to start, 

Stronger than death, the love of wretched men. 
Love was the bond that bound Thee from above, 

Submissive e'en to death ; oh, wilt Thou then 
But kindle in our hearts this, Thine own love, 
That it an adamantine chain may prove, 

Nor suffer us from Thee to fall again. 


Ifon* 3t*n Christ 
Apostles tbrixe bettieb 

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totckeb* nar £b£r miiex wte 
bt) mu attts to be &epxxateb 
ttxrm ©fyee. 

O God, Who makesc us glad by the 

yearly festival of Thine Apostles 
S* Philip and ShJames, we beseech Thee that as we rejoice in the graces given uribcr 
them, so by their examples we may oe instructed; 'through our Lord &c 

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'• I have heard the blasphemy of the multitude, and fear is on every side. 

High in the dim recess of that dark hall 
The midnight conclave now before me pass, 
Gathering around the impious Caiaphas. 

Our God, Whose Word upholds this worldly ball, 

Whose Presence doth Angelic hosts appal, 

Stands bound ; and now the rude insulting mass 
Press on Him ! Now, dreadful sight, alas ! 

The uplifted hand of the rough menial 

Strikes on the Mouth Divine that meekly spoke 

(The healed slave from Edom gave the stroke), 

The hand against its Maker ! Now I see 

Earnest appeals, judicial mockery, 

And gratulations at successful ill, 

While lights more dim the noisy conclave fill. 



" I looked also upon My right hand, and saw there was no man that would know Me. 

Now in that corner of the vaulted dome 
One soul of evil all the hearts doth stir ; 
They jeer and beat the holy Prisoner, 

With mockeries and jests around Him come, 

Mantling in scorn that Face which doth illume 

The Heaven of Heavens. Now one pollutes His ear, 
Another with injurious blows draws near. 

But there is that which to His heart comes home 
With sorer bitterness than jests so rude 
And impious blows of that fierce multitude : 
Amid the vassal courts and hall below 
The dearly loved of His soul e'en now, 
His own most dearly loved, hath forgot 
His Master's very Name — he knows Him not. 


" How is the gold become dim! how is the most fine gold changed!" 

How terrible the night that broods around, 

That we should e'er forget our Present God ! 

They who with Him the ways of sorrow trod, 
Have been with Him in Tabor, and abound 
With signs of love, with countless favours crown' d, 

With whom He hath ta'en up His own abode, 

Who companied with Him along the road, 
And with Him were in season more profound ; 

They who had all things for His sake resign' d — 
Home, friends, and calling — for a martyr's wreath, 
And boast of faithfulness to chains and death, 

In high resolves and protestations blind, — 
When they forget to pray, one little breath 

Blows all away, like leaves before the wind. 


; The precious sons of Zion, compared to fine gold, how are they esteemed as 
earthen pitchers !" 

Like some frail reed, which in the pale moonlight 
Bows down, then broken hangs upon the ground ; 
Like some ice- scene with golden sunbeams crown' d, 

Which vanishes before mid-day grows bright ; 

Or like the sea, so beautiful to sight, 

Basking in sunlight, till a cloud profound 

Doth all the glittering scene with gloom surround ; 

Or when the autumnal frost of one brief night 

Strips some fair tree, and leaves it bleak and bare, 

Robb'd of a whole year's pride and leafy state ; 
Or when upon a full-orb' d summer noon 
Comes in eclipse the intervening moon ; — 
So our best feelings cherish' d long and fair 

One hour of darkness may lay desolate. 


" Then how wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan ?" 

And who shall stand the trial when the rock 
Is shaken ? We whose strongest purposes 
Are but as webs to catch the summer flies, 
Which the bat's wing beats down, the owlets mock, 
Or light as gossamers that hold the flock 
Of stationary sunbeams, which the breeze 
Plays with, — yes, we that float our flags at ease 
And softness, what shall we do in the shock, 
When principalities have on us broke 

In their own hour of darkness — what shall we ? 
Lord, let us not Thy Hand in that dark day 
Forego, nor midnight Voice which calls to pray ; — 
So when the storm shivers the forest oak, 

May we our poor frail branches hang on Thee. 



" Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him? saith the Lord. 

Oft since that hour until the end e'en now, 
While in the raised-apart and sacred shrine 
The dread memorials of His Love Divine 

Are offered up for us, there is below 

One who hath ventured to His courts to go, 
In whom His Omnipresent Eye descries 
A heart that secretly his Lord denies, 

In self-deceiving thoughts and fears that bow 
Before the multitude ; who hears God's law, 
While influences of men with present awe 

O'erwhelm him ; and content to be as they, 
Forgets the lesson which the Garden taught, 
And higher stern resolves before him brought, 

Nor schools his heart aright to watch and pray. 


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Almighty arudSverlastcriy C-oaZ, Who 
hast given, unto us a, solemn anol re- 
ligiousjoy on this day oflhy bless ecZ 
AposiZe SPJBartholonzeWrgyasuiwepray 
Thee, uritoThy Church to tove that wfiich^ 
he believed any£top?reaA:h£h^whiclv. 


&rant,0 G-od, that after the example of 
Thy blessed Apostle and 'Evangelist 
3? Matthew, we also thro ugh Thy grace 
may be able to do that which, though it 
be impossible with men,yet is possible 

W*g£% G-od,- through Thy Sony <Jesus 

■ *^fcS- Christ our Zord&c. 



In all their affliction He was afflicted, and the Angel of His presence saved them. 

In holy silence most adorable 

Stands the meek Lamb of God, and not a sound 

Escapes His lips in sacred sorrow bound, 
" With grief acquainted." What though words may tell 
Of pains and griefs which at death's portal dwell, 

Yet who shall speak the secret flowing wound 

When love itself in hour of need is found 
Unfaithful ? — in the heart unspeakable 
Dwells the unstaunched wound and bleeds within, 

Deep in the soul that lean'd on its own love. 

E'en so Thy Spirit did Thy Prophets move 
Whene'er Thy chosen children in their sin 

Deny Thee ; — ever grieving through all times 

"The Man of Sorrows" o'er His children's crimes. 1 

1 Jer. xiii. 17 ; xxxi. 18, 20. 



" O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt V 

Lord, are we in that tender heart so near 

And dear to Thee ? Thou knowest long before 
Our very thoughts ; our words are counted o'er 

Before they rise, and on our tongues made clear 

Unto ourselves and others they appear. 
For our affections are the very store 
That Thou wouldst treasure up ; and evermore 

Close to our countenance Thine Eye and Ear 

Is listening for our words, to us unknown. 
Oh, let me ne'er amid the wicked stand, 

Forgetting vows I made with Thee alone ; 
But if surrounded by the impious band, 

Fill'd with the thoughts of Thy Gethsemane, 

Let me forget myself — remember Thee ! 


" He opened the rock of stone, and the waters flowed out, so that rivers ran in the 
dry places." 

Then often from that silence, long conceal' d, 
In awe beyond all utterance most keen, 
Thine Eye turns on us ; Satan then is seen 

Departing ; all his crafts at once reveal' d, 

When he hath gain'd his end, and sin hath seal'd 
Our disobedience : then breaks forth between 
The love of our dear Lord, which long hath been 

Watching, and yet so oft in vain appeal' d 
To earnest vow and promise vainly spent. 
Then by His rod the smitten rock is rent, 
And suddenly the waters pour apace 
From the deep hidden fountains of His Grace, 
To freshen the dry wilderness within, 
Parch' d by the fiery blast that pass'd in sin. 



" My sin is ever before me." 

The Rock is smitten, and the water flows, 

And ne'er shall cease to flow ; but whensoe'er 
That warning cock shall reach his wakeful ear, 

That Eye again shall meet him 'mid Its woes, 

And all that scene anew around him close, — 
The midnight hall — the maiden drawing near — 
The dread suspense — the agonising fear — 

The scoffers' noise and scorn — and the repose 

Of that recalling Eye upon him cast 

With tender reminiscence of the past, — 
With meek reproving, yet forgiving glance, 
Upon him turn'd with speechless utterance, — 
Then all afresh, with unabated force, 
Open'd the silent flood-gates of remorse. 

Turn us again, O God; shew the light of Thy countenance, and we shall be whole. 

Whene'er he heard the cock crow Peter wept ; 

Again to his forgotten Lord he turn'd, 

And all anew his old affections burn'd, 
And penitential sorrows o'er him crept 
With thrilling visions, which, whene'er he slept, 

Woke him again to prayer. Oh, lesson learn' d 

Not dearly, at whatever cost discern' d ! 
Oh, should temptation from us intercept 

Thy loving Countenance, yet whensoe'er 
We turn again and to Thine Altar flee 

From our own sins and from the world, oh, there 

Lift on our hearts Thy gracious look Divine, 
That we, returning to ourselves and Thee, 

May wet with tears the pavement of Thy shrine. 



" When my heart is in heaviness I will think upon God." 

Flow forth, flow forth, ye drops of holy brine, 
And wash away the taints which else remain 
Indelible in power or guilty pain. 
That Eye which doth in pity now incline 
Will blend Its tears, and blending give to thine 
A power to wash away the deepest stain, 
And turn the bitter brine to healthful rain. 
Then from dry ground shall spring the Root Divine ; 

But when our eyes meet Thine, oh, then no less 
Be with us, Lord, sustain us and control, 
Lest in that wakening of the sinful soul, 
In sense of our bereavement, to the ground 
We sink again in sorrow, and be drown' d 
E'en in the flood of our own bitterness. 

1 Isaiah liii. 2. 




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fST SIMON, jf^ 

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Jucfe, hast vouchsotfe-d 5? lead us Tz> the 7-cnov/ledg/e of Thy Ifoane, &rant/ 
That fry our j)rofiting thereby we may advance their eternal yfory, and vnj9 
fl° r tfy ! ' n 9 2^^ may advance our own, salvation, through onrZord Jesus Christ $u>. 




" By Me princes rule, and nobles, even all the judges of the earth." 

Lord, if the wicked are " a sword of Thine," 
And princes do not " bear the sword in vain," 
When, as Thy delegates, on earth they reign ; 
And hearts of kings are in Thy Hand Divine, 
Which Thou as streams of water dost incline, 
To fertilise, to freshen and sustain, 
Or to destroy : then by this patient chain 
To which Thou didst in love Thyself resign, 

When Thou with downcast eyes and back-bound hand 
Before the potentates of earth didst stand ; — 
Teach us beneath the oppressive powers of ill 
Thy chastening rod to see, and so be still ; 

Loving that Church which bears Thy sign of scorn, 
Nor conquers but when she that Cross hath borne. 


34 pilate's judgment-hall. 


When thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not he burned ; neither shall the 
flame kindle upon thee." 

When for the sins of Thine own Israel 
Nebuchadnezzar sits upon the throne, 
And holds her in the chains of Babylon, 

He with His children in the fires shall dwell 

Who now, to human eyes made visible, 

Stands before Pilate ; — to them shall be known, 
Walk with them, and shall claim them for His own. 

As here on earth, when conflagrations swell, 

Heaven's winds rush down, and are around them brought, 
So in the kingdom of Thy grace below, 
When fires of persecution round us grow, 

Thy Spirit, like a moist and freshening wind, 

Comes to be with us in the viewless mind, 
With visitations of refreshing thought. 


"It was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these." 

The eagle doth a twofold emblem prove, 

The advancing emblem of imperial state, — 

The abomination which makes desolate, — 
Or soaring gentle as the household dove, ■ 
The very image of celestial love, 

The Royal sign of the regenerate. 
E'en so the kingly Unction from above 

Sometimes the inner reins doth penetrate 
With the Anointing of the King of kings, 

Setting the standard of the Cross therein, 
As kingly David when of Saul pursued ; 

Sometimes for chastening of Thy people's sin, 
God's minister of wrath to sight it brings, 

As Saul's ambitious hate and fortitude. 

pilate's judgment-hall. 35 


"If My kingdom were of this world, then would My servants fight." 

But whensoe'er the kings that bear Thy trust, 

Thy Cross more dear than their own sceptre hold ; 

And, 'neath the shining purple and the gold, 
Sackcloth put on, and penitential dust : 
The world's mysterious hate against the just 

Shrinks from that light ; allegiance first grows cold, 

And then, in ways most strange and manifold, 
The many-handed monster in his lust 

His multitudinous sides again shall shake, 
And cast them to the ground, and there in hate 

Their crown and sceptre 'neath his feet shall break ; 

And therefore Thy true kingdom here below 
From Thine own Cross shall ne'er be separate, 

But find its strength in that dread sign of woe. 


" I am the good Shepherd, and know My sheep, and am known of Mine." 

What though His endless reign spreads forth below, 

'Tis " as it were in secret" and unknown, 

E'en as Himself, when friendless and alone, 
Before the heathen Pilate thus made low. 

His kingdom is the Truth, and they who know 
The Truth shall find their way unto His throne, 
Entering that City's gates. And He shall own 

Their due allegiance. Where He reigns e'en now 
On this bad earth His kingdom is true peace, 

Order, and harmony, and blessed love, 

For ever manifold yet ever one, 

One King, one Kingdom ; clothed with the sun, 
His kingdom with His knowledge doth increase, 

Till both are in fruition lost above. 

36 pilate's judgment-hall, 


" The throne of God and of the Lamb." 

Thy kingdom is release from death and sin, 

From the heartburnings and the fear and strife ; 
For the Lamb's Blood, which speaks of endless life, 

Is on the door by which we enter in, 

Beats in the heart when true life doth begin ; 

Fills all the veins ; each grace which there is rife 
Speaks of that Blood ; the Church is but the Wife 

Of the meek Lamb, — the Bride His Blood doth win. 
'Tis the slain Lamb that sits upon the throne : 
Therefore no place is in that kingdom known 

For pride's disquiet, and ambition's pains ; 

It is the Lamb Himself that all sustains ; 
All there, in all things, at all seasons own 

The love and meekness of the Lamb that reigns. 



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<*od, who didst receive the blessed Matthias 
into the fellowship of Thine Apostles grant; we 
beseech Thze that we also may ever experie, 
the towels of Thy compassion, towards v. 
through our Lord 

™Wb hoi 

G &od, who makesb us glad 
Wilh^'%ene yearly of Thy 
■ly Apostle Barnab as .mercifully vouchsafe 
'shot by the gifts of Thy grace we may not 
fall short cf" 
^•\\ hast bestowed 

of those benefits which by htm Thai* 
iwed on us dvrouqh out Lord %sc 






They have cast their heads together with one consent; and are confederate against 
thee; the tabernacles of the Edomites." 

Sent from that heathen judgment-hall of woe, 

They now in mockery rude their Victim bring 

Before the subtle Galilean king ; 
While through the streets they hurry to and fro, 
Now throng behind, and now before Him go, 

In hate successful, loud, and triumphing ; 

As some poor death-bound prince, or captive thing, 
Forced through Rome's streets before his last death-blow ; 

Or sacrificial beast, amid the throng 

To some old heathen altar urged along ; 
Or as fierce dogs hunt down the gentle hare, 

From place to place, loud yelling for its blood ;— 

The Pharisees their Victim have pursued ; 
Lo, in the kingly palace, they are there. 



" If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness ! " 

Steep' d in the murder' d Baptist's holy blood 

Sits the incestuous and adulterous chief, 

Well pleased to view the Saviour in His grief, 
Hoping to see some miracle of good. 
Oh, strange infatuation which withstood 

The strivings of the Spirit ! Oh, how brief 

The day of our salvation and relief, 
Ere tenfold night doth on the senses brood, 

Close up the eye and ear, and case the heart 
In thick-ribbed iron ! Pharaoh-like, to see 

Signs to the Almighty Presence which belong, 
As of some sportive juggler at his art, 

And yet himself unscathed to sit among 
The hghtnings of Incarnate Deity ! 


" But He answered him nothing." 

Silence most eloquent, beneath the sound 

Of earthly things, with current deep and strong, 
Doth like a hidden ocean move along ; 

What silent retributions do abound ! 

What silent intercessions all around ! 

Time silent steals, in memory keeps the wrong, 
And then puts forth his hand amid the throng. 

Our God disown' d, our King with shame is crown' d, 
And in that robe is made the scorn of men : 

The sun shall see a Herod in his might 

Spangled in that same silver robe of light, 1 
And men aloud declare him God, and then 

The Angel's hand shall smite his royal form, 

Mark'd as the prey of the devouring worm. 

1 Acts xii. 21 : "Arrayed in royal apparel." " A robe made all of silver tissue. 
As the sun was then rising, the rays made it shine." — Josephus. 



" I am the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, 
so is my Love." 

Behold the lilies of the vernal field ; 

For Solomon was ne'er arrayed so bright, 

In all his tissued robe of silver light, 
As one of these, to thoughtful eyes reveal' d. 
The microscope will shew their crystal shield, 

All studded with fair pearls and crysolite, 

And purple veins that track the virgin white, — 
A beauteous world from our gross eyes conceal' d. 

That glittering robe of kingly Solomon 

By this false Idumean is put on : 
But fairer than the glory of the flower 

Was Christ's white robe of spotless innocence, 
Worn in His bleeding Passion's darkest hour, 

Too brilliant for the eye of mortal sense. 

" They have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb' 
Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His 

Thence the white robes of all-prevailing prayer, 

Through all her courts shall to His Church descend, 
Multiplied at her shrines unto the end, — 

Numberless as the stars on the dark air 

Come forth, and the departed sun-light share. 
That robe a silent language doth attend, 

And speechless intercession seems to wear, 
As representing Him who stood our Friend 

Before the king of terrors. At that day, 

In plenitude of His almighty sway, 

Whate'er things Him approach' d, hate, jest, or chance, 

Put on themselves divine significance ; 

E'en as the setting sun, of clouds brought nigh, 

Makes to himself a glorious pageantry. 



" God forbid that I should sin against the Lord in ceasing to pray for you." 

By mockery cloth' d in that white garb of scorn 

Stood our Great Sacrifice for us to plead, 

And to our God in silence intercede, 
And solitude ; and what if thus forlorn 
In all His courts that snowy vest is worn, 1 

Pleading, alas, for them who little heed, 

Mid enemies who know not their great need, 
As Christ Himself upon that holy morn. 

That lifting up of hands may still avail, 
As on the mount apart, when Israel fought, 

Moses, sustained by Sacerdotal power, 
Outstretch' d his arms in silence, and thence brought 

A power to Israel in that destined hour, 
With lifting up of hands to win or fail. 

1 " Since that accident to our Lord, the Church hath not indecently chosen to clothe 
her priests with albs, or white garments ; and it is a symbolical intimation and repre- 
sentment of that part of the passion and affront which Herod passed upon the holy 
Jesus : and this is so far from deserving a reproof, that it were to be wished all the 
children of the Church would imitate all those graces which Christ exercised when He 
wore that garment, which she hath taken up in ceremony and thankful memory."— 
Jer. Taylor, L ife of Christ. 



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# £<?<#, Who hast bestowed such excellent 
grace on, Thy blessed Evangelist 
Saint Ji/CarTc w, the setting forth 
of Thy Gospel, vouchsafe unto us, 
we pray Thee, ever to make jprogrefs 
in the knowledge of Thy Wordj l . , 
through our Lord, Jesus Christ. Vi 

jpray Thee, O Lord,, that we 
may ever be instructed a,nc& 
benefitted by Thy holy Evangelist 
Savnt Luke, who cheerfully bore 
about in, his body the maftufbcation 
of the Cross to the honor f Thy great 
name,- through our Lord Jesus Christ. 





" The fierceness of man shall turn to Thy praise." 

Herod and Pilate are made friends to-day, 
And Jew and Gentile are together met, 
By unseen hands the Corner-stone is set, 

Both walls to one are tending now their way ; 

For evil spirits His behests obey, 

And work His will, caught in their own strange net, 
While they confederate foes with malice whet 

Against Incarnate Goodness. Thus they lay 
In Sion the chief Corner-stone, with blood 

Cemented, and made firm and ratified 
By voice of the infatuate multitude. 

All are united now with one accord, 
All in one headlong purpose are allied 

Against the Lord of life, the living Word. 


" Both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the people of Israel, were 
gathered together, for to do whatsoever Thy hand and Thy counsel determined before 
to be done." 

Gentile and Jew, and Scribe and Sadducee, 

People, and priests, and kings are now made one, 
By malice brought to wondrous union, 

Mock counterfeit of holy charity ; 

Such power hath truth divine, that things we see 
Catch at its likeness, in its impress run, 
Shadows on earth of the celestial sun : 

As when in spreading tribes at enmity, 
Ishmael, and Edomite, and Hagarene, 
Midian, and Amalek, there soon was seen 

The sire of many nations : swift they sprung 

From that great prophecy which yet was young, 
Like sands on the sea-shore, in forecaste given 
Of Christian nations like the stars of heaven. 


" Woe is me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of strife and a man of 
contention to the whole earth !" 

Thus is the Gospel as a sword on earth, 

Kindling division more inveterate 

Than in aught else is known of human hate : 
Pride, lust, wrath, envy, sadness, impious mirth, 
Which in our hearts' dark ruins have their birth, 

In ways most manifold and intricate 

Combine against the Light, else separate. 
Yet Truth the while in its own household hearth 
Shines, amid foes its standard onward beareth, 

And ne'er but by itself is overcome, 
When trampled most, victorious most appeareth, 

Outcast and hated through the world to roam, 
Seeking in every heart to make its home ; 

Whatever cannot love the heavenly Guest it feareth. 


" Though they curse, yet bless thou." 

To Pilate's judgment-hall again returned, 
With sorer woes oppress' d, and bearing still 
At each remove a heavier weight of ill, 

From place to place His love more brightly burn'd, 

At each remove His patience was discern' d. 
While evil winds turn'd not His stedfast will, 
Whose flame burnt upward, but its rising fill, 

Till He the length and breadth and depth hath learn' d 
Of human bitterness. Of ills they pour 
Full measure pressed down and running o'er 
Into His bosom, which He doth restore 

To them again steep' d in His precious Blood ; 

While Satan's darts, by patient love withstood, 

Are by Him made to work eternal good. 


O My people, what have I done unto thee? and wherein have I wearied thee ? 
testify against Me." 

Thus driven from place to place, He makes appeal 
From judgment unto judgment in all eyes, 
In judgment stands before all enemies, 

Crying aloud, each hidden thing reveal, 

Bring forth your reasons, nothing to conceal, 
Let wicked men and spirits now arise, 
One Woman-born your enmity defies, 

Else on His innocence ye set your seal. 
Ye in like manner shall before Him stand, 

Each, one by one, stand as a criminal, 

And make appeal in the great judgment-hall 
Of men and angels ; all things now at hand 
Shall onward pass to the eternal strand 

Where sentence shall be given upon us all. 



" If these things be in you and abound, they make you that ye shall neither be 
barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

Would that to Thee we might be liken' d now, 
So we this persecution should obtain, 
And turn obtain' d to our abiding gain ; — 

From trial-scene to scene we thus might go, 

Gaining in each advantage o'er the foe, 
So unto us each heaven-descended pain 
Might wash away some guilt-contracted stain, 

And we our own abasement come to know ; 

So more and more may learn how to forgive ; 
And more forgiving, may be more forgiven ; 

That more forgiven, we the more may love ; 

And loving more, like That we love may prove ; 

And liken' d more to Him, in Him may live, 
And find in Him the rest which is of Heaven. 


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Grant, Lord, thai we may imitate thai 
which we commemorate, and learn to love 
our enemies, when we hold in memory 
the birth-day of him, who prayed- even\ 
for his murderers, to Thy Son our Lord 
Jesus Christ, Who ever Uveth and 
reigneth with Thee, ever One Goo 
world without end. 



God, Who dost work wonderfully 
in the ministration of Thy word/ 
and Sacraments, and by Whose 
f power alone the Ethiopian, cans 
change his shin,grount that, being 
'made Thy children by adoption 
jye may ever live in newness 
of life; through Thy Sons 
Jesus Christ. 





As many were astonied at Thee; His visage was so marred more than any man, 
and His form more than the sons of men " 

Thou, the Fount of all that's fair and good, 

On Whose blest countenance, girt with bright rays, 
Adoring angels and archangels gaze, 
And drink unspeakable beatitude ; — 
Before Thy guilty creatures hast Thou stood 
Thus covered with dishonour ; in rude ways 
Reft of that robe which did divinely blaze 
On Tabor's heaven-uplifted solitude, 

Which with mysterious healing did abound, 
When virtue went forth through their skirts around 
From That Thy sinless Body, which did wear 
The sins of all the world ; now stripp'd and bare, 
Naked, as erst dishonouring Thy Hand 
Adam in paradise did guilty stand. 



" I am in misery, and like unto him that is at the point to die." 

Long hast Thou striven since our sad parents' fall 
To veil our nakedness, and sinful shame 
Indelibly imprinted on our frame, 

By skins as by a robe funereal, 

And offering up of slaughter' d animal, 

And more than all by Thine Almighty Name, 
As by a shield from self-reproaching blame 

Against the Accuser : in man's judgment-hall 
Thyself, Who art the God of purity, 
Art naked stripp'd and desolate — for me ; 

With virginal pure Flesh all trembling there, 

And modest Soul than heaven of heavens more fair, 
Shrinking within in speechless agonies, 
A gazing-stock and scorn to cruel eyes. 


" If so be that being clothed we shall not be found naked." 

In this Thy nakedness as of the tomb, 

By Thine unclothing we are clothed upon ; 
E'en as Thy dying for us life hath won, 

And as Thine exile is to us our home, 

So Thine unclothing hath to us become 

Our house from heaven. Unhoused, unclothed, undone, 
Thou hast our nakedness clothed with the sun 

Of Thine own brightness ; as the clouds which roam 

Onward, attendant on the sun's white throne, 
Are in themselves all mist and gloom forlorn, 
Yet clothed in golden radiance not their own 

Are made the moving canopies of Heaven, 
Hanging in wreaths around the face of morn, 

Or beauteous imagery which is at even. 


" He will destroy in this mountain the face of the covering cast over all people" 
" that cover with a covering, but not of My Spirit." 

So deeply in our spirits hidden lieth 

The consciousness of this our nakedness, 

Our guilty souls from Heaven's light shrink no less 

Than do our bodies ; when the eye would press 

Home to its covert, inwardly it sigheth 

At thought of its own nakedness, and crieth 
To Him alone that knoweth her distress ; 

And when her conscious shame the Accuser trieth, 
Can only in His sheltering Bosom hide. 

The appliances which from the world we borrow 
Are but the ministrations of our pride, 
To find some hiding-place, and there abide : 

But the great Judgment, with an endless sorrow, 

Such coverings from the soul shall strip to-morrow. 


Thy rebuke hath broken My heart ; I am full of heaviness : I looked for some to 
have pity on Me, but there was no man." 

Thou hadst no sin, but didst in pity take 
The tenderness of those meek souls serene 
That on all brotherly compassions lean, 

And when those sympathies of friends forsake, 

Soul-stricken feel, as if the heart would break : 
Such love, when by the rude world it is seen, 
Is deem'd all weakness, though its griefs have been 

Not for itself, but for its brethren's sake. 

Through Psalms and Prophets thus, like the meek Dove, 
His Spirit doth a mourner's heart express, 

With images akin to human love. 

And thus the Lord, descending from above, 
Clothed Himself with all human tenderness, 
That so His Shadow might our weakness bless. 


Who art thou, that thou shouldest be afraid of a man that shall die, and forgettest 
the Lord thy Maker ?" 

All this for me, that by Thy mercy shriven 
I might in soul and body be made whole, 
That I might open my sin-festering soul 

Before him unto whom Thy power is given 

To bind and loose, and bear the keys of Heaven, 
Back to its source the gather' d load to roll ; 
The soul by running leprosies made foul 

To reinstate at pardon-gate, thence driven ; 

Though face-confusion waits on us before 
One eye, and that in mercy : one pale star 

Sits in the twilight at the evening door, 

Whose blush precedes the darkness ; better far 

Than in the Judgment to unnumber'd eyes, 

And the whole court of the assembled skies. 




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Cod, who hast been pleased to preserve a> succession, of Chief Pastors in Thy Church' 
even unto these ends of the. world,- grant we pray Thee 2hat such may never be wanting 
unto us, nor we to them,- through our Lord Jesus Christ, Who liveth and reigne&i with; 
Thee and the Holy Ghost Sec. 




Be astonished, O ye heavens, at this, and be horribly afraid, be ye very desolate, 
saith the Lord." 

My Lord and God, I see Thee standing bare, 
Reft of Thy robes, and shuddering at the sight 
Of executioners, that try their might 

In mock essays, and rods and cords prepare. 

And now the lictor band are entering there ; 
The morning throws askant her cold grey light, 
But more and more the while a tenfold night 

Possession takes of that dread theatre ; 

For Thou, who art the Sun of Righteousness, 
Withdrawest all Thy beams — in sore distress ; 

As wanton soldiery are closing round, 

And evil spirits have their senses drowned 

In cruelty ; — while, to the pillar bound, 

Thou wait'st the stroke in shivering nakedness. 



" By His stripes we are healed." 

Such is the offering of Thyself, that we 

May willingly embrace the healing scourge, 

While the rude world mocks at the thoughts that urge 

To chastening laws of self-severity. 

But what is all this sorrow pour'd on Thee? 
Not that our flesh may from this gloom emerge 
In pamper' d ease ; but when she strives to purge 

In-dwelling sins by their due penalty, 

Or takes the scourging of a Father's Hand, 

She may remember that on Thee were laid 

Her heavy burdens, and rejoice when made 

Like unto Thee, Who thus did'st trembling stand, — 

May learn there is no health but in the rod 

Which hath been borne by our own pitying God. 


" There is no whole part in My body. I am feeble and sore smitten." 

The scene of blood comes thickening on that morn, 
And now of the loud scourge I hear the sound 
Redoubled, and I see the reddening wound, — 
Wound upon wound, — His tender back is torn, 
Flower of all human flesh — the Sinless-born ; 
The Lily of the Vales that loved the ground, 
Shrinking from view profane, and spotless found ; 
Now lifted like the rose upon the thorn, 

Which hangs its head beneath the stormy shower ; 
And ere it sheds in death its dripping leaves, 
One purple petal, as it earthward grieves, 

Falls wet with dew from the o'erloaded flower : 
So from Thy Body, mingling with Thy tears, 
Drops Thy life's-blood, and on the stone appears. 


" He bare our griefs, and carried our sorrows." 

Thus the Almighty God is prostrate bent 

Beneath the unpitying scourge and soldier throng, 
Yielding those Hands to the fast-binding thong, 

Which moulded the o'er-hanging firmament; — 

A fainting Victim with sore anguish spent. 
Thus till the day of doom He comes among 
His children's thoughtless ways of mirth or wrong, 

Bearing the burden of our punishment, — 
Comes in some attitude of speechless throes 

Upon our joys and sorrows to attend ; 
Teaching us what alone His Spirit knows, 

Our state, our origin, our being's end ; 

While thus our true and everlasting Friend 
Pleads with us in the silence of His woes. 


" By His knowledge shall My righteous Servant justify many. 

This from our penal stripes is the reprieve, 
In this oblation they are sanctified ; 
The Father reconciled henceforth shall hide 

Within His tabernacle those that grieve : 

And the Almighty Comforter shall cleave 
To those in suffering unto Him allied : 
That they beneath this shadow may abide, 

He scourgeth every son He doth receive. 

In this bad world with leprous taint o'ercast, 
Which to its own corruption fades so fast, 

Nothing in the All-seeing Eyes is good, 
Save as the mirror of the Eternal Son, 
When therein is beheld what He hath won, 

In images of His atoning Blood. 



Blessed are they which have been sorrowful for all Thy scourges ; for they shall 
rejoice for Thee, when they have seen all Thy glory, and shall be glad for ever." 

Thy sorrows were one cloud of black amaze, 

Unmitigated gloom due to our sin ; 

But unto us an angel face comes in, 
And still with solitary sweetness stays, 

Pleading to tender sympathies within 
For Thee and for Thy sorrows, while we gaze, 

Amid the gathering storm ; as fain to win 
From recklessness of our too mirthful days 

To love Thy sorrows, and to be with Thee, 

Rather than in the world. Thus unto me 
A star comes out beyond the stormy sky 

That wrapt Thee round : to us Thy Blood is Wine, 

Thy griefs our hope, Thy dying life divine, 
Refreshment in Thine anguish-drooping Eye. 

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<? 6W -wfo didst strengthen Thy blessed ^ 
Marly r and BtshopDionysvus with con,- j 
sieuicy to bearhispiassion/yrant we besde'ech 
Thee after his example we may despise 
the prosperities of the world oat 
of love for Thee and fear no7i&. 
of its adversities through our. 

Ik? '% \ 

j ST C LEMENT . j 

Grant, Zord, that while we 
dwell in, this evil world our names may 
be ever written in the booh of life, and 
our anchor fixed within ike 
, through our Zord. 





He holdeth back the face of His throne, and spreadeth His cloud upon it. 

" What is His crime ? One to a kingdom born ! 

Come, let us make a glorious diadem, 

At every point shall be a living gem, 
We with His own tiara will adorn, 
And, circled with the radiance of the morn, 

Shew thee thy King, thou proud Jerusalem ! 

His bleeding temples shall supply the stem 
With rubies, and its rays the twisted thorn." 

hell-born skill of fierce imperial Rome, 

Well might they deem thee from the very womb 
Nurtured by savage beast amid the wild ; 
With blood of all the nations now denied ; 

Henceforth thyself shalt thine own Caesars own, 

And know and feel thyself the thorny crown. 



" O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself; but in Me is thine help. I will be thy King." 

But clothe Him first ! — no more those garments mean, — 

Bring forth the purple for the kingly gown, 

Such as may best become the imperial crown, 
And well be suited to the royal mien ; 
The mirror wherein best His state is seen. 

Zion, go forth thy promised King to own ! 

Thou hast for Him prepared this regal throne ; 
For thee He now is scourged ; for thee this scene, 

This day of His espousals is for thee — 
The Bride which He hath cherished now so long. 

" Thy Maker is thy Husband," and to plead 
More powerfully with thee He bears this wrong, — 

The diadem that burns around His Head, 
And robe that speaks, but mocks at, majesty. 

" They know not what they do." 

types of suffering and of sovereignty, — 

The scarlet robe, a crown that makes to bleed ! 
And for a sceptre add the hollow reed 

Of scorn and weakness ; — then they bend the knee, 

And bow to Him in mock humility : 

While one hath seized in sport the sceptred weed, 
And with it strikes upon His crowned Head 

(Oh, art refined in murderous cruelty !) 

Driving the thorns more deeply ; while e'en now- 
blindness terrible ! — around that Brow 

Of unseen Godhead, on Whose smile or frown 
Bliss everlasting hangs or endless woe, 

The Blood bursts forth beneath the thorny crown, 
And to His purple garment trickles down. 



" And thorns shall come up in her palaces." 

The King of Martyrs thus, with His own band 

Dyed in their blood around His kingly seat, 

And sufferers hallowed by the Paraclete, 
Against the evil world hath ta'en His stand. 
For man's own sake and benefit, the land 

Sends forth its thorns and briers at his feet, 

To furnish unto him his chastenings meet : 
Therefore Eternal Wisdom so hath plann'd, 

That when the Second Man shall ope the door 
Of pardon, and mankind with power divine 

Through sorrow and atonement shall restore, 
He of man's woes shall expiation make, 

Shall seize of sin the very scourge and sign, 
And for the emblem of His kingdom take. 


We also are weak in Him, but we shall live with Him by the power of God. 

We bear not on our brows a ray divine 

Caught from Thy glory, nor one glowing gem, 
Nor the bright star of honoured Bethlehem, 

But Thine own Cross impress' d — Thy Father's sign. 

In adoration when our knees incline 

To Thee our King, of David's royal stem, 
We see Thee not with throne and diadem ; 

But on the Cross in anguish, there to pine. 
So deep-polluted had become Thy Bride, 
That Thou for love, to woo her to Thy side, 

These " foul and filthy" garments didst put on, — 

Thyself abasing that she might be won, 

And in Thy Father's house with Thee abide, 

Clothed with the robe of the Eternal Son. 




" Then she that is Mine enemy shall see it, and shame shall cover her which said 
unto Me, Where is the Lord Thy God." 

In the fair autumn of the year's decline, 
When quiet stars come forth at evensong, 
There doth a something to the skies belong 

That speaks of roseate light which is divine ; 

When the sun sinks into his western shrine, 
Leaving on even- gate a blood-like stain, 
As on the door the paschal victim slain. 

Those tints of light that blend with purple wine, 
Which the sun leaves behind, portend a morn 

Of glorious promise, quiet skies serene ;* 
And even now, in its decline new-born, 

The nascent moon with all her stars is seen. 
Thus as our Sun goes down in His own Blood, 
Comes forth His Church with her bright multitude. 

' " Quod dixit Dominus, Facto vesper e dicitis serenum erit; rubicundum est enim 
caelum ; id est, sanguine passionis Christi, in primo adventu indulgentia peccatorum 
datur. Et mane, Hodie tempestas ; rubet enim cum tristitia caelum; id est, quod 
secundo adventu igne prsecedente venturus est. Faciem ergo cceli judicare nostis ; 
signa autem temporum non potestis ? Signa temporum dixit de adventu suo vel pas- 
sione, cui simile est roseum coelum vespere : et item de trihulatione ante adventum 
suum futura, cui simile est mane roseum cum tristitia ccelum." — S. Aug. Qucest. 
Evang. I. 20, torn. iii. ed. Bened. 


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such. Chef Pastors of Thy Flock, fkatfkey 
may ~b& wtUxny to offer up tJi&rutlYes CU 
SoxriActS vuvbo Dcee , thsrovLgJc our Ford 
Jesiu Christ, who ever Izreth and reignztk 
vnCh.Ihee rmdike. Holy Gtu/st, <fe. c _ 





Wherefore art Thou red in Thine apparel, and Thy garments like him that treadeth 
in the wine-fat I" 

Who cometh with His garments dyed in blood 
From Edom and from Bozrah ? Who is able 
From death and hell, — which unassailable, 

With walls defying heaven so long have stood, — 

To save ? In His own wondrous solitude 
He comes, beyond all lore or ancient fable, 
In His strength travelling unapproachable. 

The flesh cannot discern the Only Good, 
Apparell'd thus in His own conquest day. 
Yea, 'mong themselves the very angels say, 

" Lo, who is this that cometh ? Who is He 
Whose Name is Secret V They who shall attend 
His conquering march shall answer to the end, 

" To know that Name is immortality." 



" He was led as a sheep to the slaughter." 

By Judas led to Annas ; then sent round 

From Annas to blaspheming Caiaphas ; 

From Caiaphas to Pilate ; then led bound 

From Pilate to Herodian Antipas ; 
And thence again to Pilate ; then disown' d 
By Pharisees and people, scourged and crown' d : 
Then rise the voices of the infuriate mass — 
Give us not this Man, give us Barabbas ! 
With one great voice of that fierce multitude 
'Twas Satan who aloud call'd for His blood, — 
As if the Hon of the forest brayed 1 
After his prey, beholding Him betrayed ; 
And then as beaten, mock'd, and under ban, 
Pilate brings forth, and says, " Behold the Man !" 


" Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto My sorrow." 

" Behold the Man !" the Gentile says full well : 
The garment, and the crowning, and the rod, — 
With suffering crown' d, humiliation shod, — 

Man by His woes in meekness visible ; 

The " Man of Sorrows !" Who the wounds shall tell 
Of Him Who hath alone the wine-press trod ? 

But loudly cries astonish' d Israel, 

He made Himself to be the Son of God : 

Therefore both Man and God : the Man behold 
In burning characters writ on His brow, 

His very Manhood there by woe imprest. 

Behold your God ! e'en Zion hath confess' d 

What to the winds His words and deeds have told, 
Behold your God, for healing or for woe ! 

1 Jer. xii. 7. 8. 




" Nevertheless Thy saints had a very great Light." 

The fire of Godhead filled the thorny blaze, 
Which in that mansion unconsuming burn'd, 
Like the moon in a cloud, when Moses turn'd 

With awe adoring on the sight to gaze, — 

Unharming incommunicable rays. 

Thus Godhead in the Manhood was discern' d, 

Which made the flesh Its home ; and thence hath learn' d 

The thorny bed of anguish and amaze. 

And such the token, when with might divine 
The Everlasting would His people call 
Through the Red Sea, from the Egyptian thrall, 

With them within the wilderness to plead ; 
Again enshrined in fire-illumined sign, 

Onward to unseen Canaan did He lead. 


We all, with open face beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are changed 
into the same image from glory to glory." 

The eye swift glances, yet in passing by 
Takes to itself whate'er it may behold, 
Whether the face and form of human mould, 

Or boundless spreading sea, or summer sky, 

With all the stretch of their immensity. 

And they who look beneath the eyelid's fold, 
See the enamell'd mirror there enroll' d, 

Lurking unknown beneath the unconscious eye. 
And thus upon this picture would I gaze, 
That while my solemn thought the scene portrays, 

The soul within her may the impress keep, 

In prayer and meditation lodging deep ; 

That when the Eye of God may look thereon, 
He may discern the Image of His Son. 




For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to he compared 
with the glory which shall he revealed in us." 

Hues fair as those which evening skies illume 
Lie hidden in the seed, till, fed with dew 
And foster' d by sunbeams, they come to view. 

Lock'd once in treasury of that dark tomb, 

Wherein they buried lay as in the womb ; 
Now in fresh being, beautiful and new, 
They hang above the spot from whence they grew. 

Thus martyr-souls, from the o'erwhelming gloom 
Which wrapt awhile their awful going hence, 
In pity beyond human utterance, 

May now in tearful beauty hang their head, 
Mid graces which are heavenly, yet of earth. 

For from the grave where sorrow made her bed 
Are all the virtues of our second birth. 





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: The Anointed of the Lord was taken in their pits, of Whom we said, Under His 
shadow we shall live." 

When kings are by their subjects doom'd to die, 

All Christian hearts strange horror doth appal, 

And boding expectations on them fall 
Of some unwonted and dire tragedy, — 
Embodied evil seems itself so nigh. 

And when the martyrs in man's judgment-hall 

Under decree of death are given in thrall, 
Our souls are touched by a strange sympathy, 

Beyond expression of the outer sense ; 

Though these be heirs of sin and death, yet thence 
In these emotions of man's heart is shewn 
Something more deep than to himself is known, 
Which witness bears to God's Anointed One, — 

A King condemn' d in perfect innocence. 


" Look how wide also the east is from the west, so far hath He set our sins from i 

From sentence pass'd on Adam's sinful brood, 
To that last Judgment whither all things tend, — 
Midway between man's origin and end, 

This condemnation of our God hath stood ; 

Nay, rather doth, in mourning attitude, 

From end to end its outstretch' d shade extend ; 
And whosoe'er would rightly comprehend 

This mortal being, capable of good, 

In that dear shadow sees mankind, and 'neath 
The coming on of what is after death, — 

Those vast realities of which to hear, 

Man's soul unto its centre shakes with fear, — 
Thus daily shall himself regard, and prove 
The depth of that great truth — that God is Love. 


" The love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

In all things that portend this world's decease, 
As the quick fall of all that is therein, 
And death's dark rangers, whose broad net doth win 

By subtle sure instalments, — as Disease, 

Winter, Decay, and Sorrow, — in all these 
We read Thy condemnation, and our sin, — 
Our sin which went so fast when once let in 

That it could never rest in its increase, 

Until this height of heights it had attain' d, 

Which could no further go, but reach' d the skies. 
Then in the strife Thy Love the conquest gain'd, 

Which, like a mantle, from the All-seeing Eyes 
Strove our exceeding sinfulness to hide, 
And by humility to slay our pride. 



" If one died for all, then were all dead." 

Each day he lives is man condemn' d to die. 
By One Who sits within the Judgment-hall 
Rais'd in the heart of every criminal, 

Whose righteous sentence no one can put by : 

And then the stern decree to ratify, 

Sleep still returns in night's o'ershadowing pall, 
And sets death's stamp and image on us all. 

To this Thy condemnation would I fly, 

That, self-condemn' d, while o'er myself I grieve, 
I may in this, Thy dying, find reprieve : 

But as Thou in Thy love, in this our stead, 

As one with guilt oppress' d dost hang Thy Head, 
I would put on my own mortality 
By dying to myself, and live to Thee. 


Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ 
may rest upon me." 

If this the mirror be of things on earth, — 

All men with one consent against Thee stirr'd, 
And e'en Barabbas unto Thee preferr'd, — 

Then let me not in seriousness or mirth 

Grieve to be set aside as nothing worth, 
Another listen' d to, admired, and heard. 
Such are occasions upon me conferr'd, 

Whereby I may attest my better birth ; 
This is the daily dying I must love ; 
In Thee my lineage thus, and portion prove ; 

While I in my own breast my sentence bear, 

Self-judging, self-condemn' d. Then why should I 
Chafe at my prison-house, if thus to die 

Is in Thy Righteousness to have a share ? 



" For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God." 

But Self must first be kill'd by penitence, 
And buried in the grave of healthful sorrow : 
The suns that harbinger a golden morrow 
Blend with the hues of blood, and goings hence 
In darkness, and soft tears which clouds dispense. 
'Tis only thus our sinful selves undoing 
That aught in us is bred which finds renewing, 
And may partake in Christ's own innocence. 
The seed must disappear in wintry bed 
Ere it in the full harvest lifts its head, 
When He Who bears the sickle shall descend, 
Sitting on a white cloud. wondrous end ! 
When Pharisee and Pilate, we and they 
Before their Criminal stand on that day ! 



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God, Who art the invisible strength of those, 
that contend -For Thee, be -favorable, we, pray Thee, 
to oiAj- supplications, that as we on, 
commewwrotie the gloriom trvumph of Thy 
sacred martyrs Irenoeus and Jus companions, 
we may oho be fortified by Thy aid against 
spiritual wickedness, through oUrZord 

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tkz example, and the prayers of the, i< 
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his Priesffy $eal, and for tfie triumph of his 
glorious passion,- through our Lord Jesus 
Christ, 2cc. 




" When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he was the more afraid. 

But e'en the Governor, arrayed in might, 
Is moved within by an unwonted fear, 
Trembling before his lowly Prisoner ; 

A soldier used to every murderous sight, 

The very heathen, in his own despite, 

Feels judgment greater than his own is near, — 
The judge doth like the guilty one appear ; 

The Roman quails before an Israelite : 
I deem that fable strong in mystery, 
That lions of the forest will pass by 
Cowering at sight of virgin purity ; 

And thus the world, e'en in her fiercest mood, 

By envy onward urged to deeds of blood, 

Still trembles while it persecutes the good. 



Though thou wash thee with nitre, and take thee much soap, yet thine iniquity 
marked before Me, saith the Lord God." 

Many would wash their hands from Thy dear Blood 

With Pilate, unabsolved by self within ; 

The accuser sits behind them, and therein 
Mocks them in doing ill with thoughts of good, 
Leaving the hollow front of fortitude 

To cover craven spirits he would win. 
And what avails the loud-tongued multitude 

Against that still small Voice winch speaks of sin ? 
The earthquake and the thunder are soon gone, 
And that dread whisper then will plead alone : 

Nor can the breath of crowds, more guilty still, 
E'er chase away, like a fresh-blowing wind, 
The noxious vapours it hath left behind, 

Or rectify the sin-perverted will. 


" Thou shalt was-h me, and I shall be whiter than snow." 

Thou, Lord, must bring Thyself the absolving stream ; 

Thyself alone canst wash away the stain ; 

The streams of Paradise would flow in vain — 
In vain a sea of tears on the sad theme ; 
In vain would costly sacrifice redeem 

One guilty spot ; — yea, this release to gain, 

Hath all creation groaned so long in pain, 
Striving, as if in some guilt-haunted dream, 
To cleanse the stain ; the ingrain' d spot remains : 

For this hath Superstition raised her shrines, 

And 'mid her countless victims inly pines. 
One drop of Thy dear Blood is more than all ; 

Thy word of power, that bursts death's prison-chains, 
Alone can cleanse the will, lost power recall. 



" While I held my tongue, my bones consumed away." 

First the all-trembling consciousness of ill 

Deems earth and heaven have eyes, and the sick mind 

Would fain herself unbosom to the wind, 
But shame-struck back recoils ; then soon the will, 

With Satan's cords yet more and more entwined, 
Adds to the load, and leaves her labouring still ; 

Till to the headlong stream at length resigned, 
She hastes of crime the measure to fulfil, 

In recklessness of conscience ill at ease. 
But blessed they to whom 'tis timely given 

At God's own mercy-seat to seek release, 

And find a refuge in the absolving keys, 
Which ope heaven's door, pour in celestial air, 
And lead anew to penitential care. 

Their soul shall he as a watered garden ; and they shall not sorrow any more at all. 

Thus have I known when on a sultry noon, 
Beneath the vapour-loaded atmosphere, 
All creatures hung their head, like guilty fear ; 

Nature breathed thick and faint, and out of tune ; 

Big drops descended one by one, and soon, 
As with a momentary quick surprise, 

Around, far brighter than the autumnal moon, 
The vivid lightnings bathed the o'erhanging skies, 

The clouds unlock' d the fountains of their tears, 

The heavens expanded ; then released from fears, 
Earth looks up for renewal of their love ; 

The trees with all their little leaves rejoice ; 

The mountains and the valleys find a voice ; 
One multitudinous song fills all the grove. 



•' His flesh shall be fresher than a child's, he shall return to the days of his youth. 

Oh, peaceful calm of guilt and doom repealed, 

As when before the priest the leper stood 

With ulcerous contagions all subdued, 
And to the faithful eye in hope revealed : 
Then the meek dove pronounced the leper healed, 

Slain o'er the running stream, — the stream of blood 

Went down to Jordan's blest Baptismal flood : 
He from his sickness cleansed, and freedom sealed, 

Walked in the Holy City once again. 

Thus when the golden keys retrieve the stain, 
What if the mingled stream of blood and tears 

Flows to the Baptism of our earlier years ; 
And the regenerate soul, by sin defiled, 
Come from the stream again a healthful child. 



Almighty God, Who didst give lo „ 

Thy servant $* Lawrence to overcome <* 
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We heseech Thee, Almighty God, to howe 
compafsion upon, over wtaknefs , thod- 
nhereous we are heovvily la/ien, by the 
'a \ weight of oar own mhrmz&es, 
^K^ssj; * K '"3 may be strengthened by 
' the example of Thy 
■ i" •suffercng martyrs,- through 
our Lord f£c. 



" Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me." 

The way of sorrows and this burden sore 
Are of Thy life the sad epitome, 
Wherein a weight of sorrows hung on Thee, 
With Thine eyes on us fixed for evermore, 
That we may rest our hearts on Thee before, 
And gazing on Thee in Thy way of grief, 
May from our very sorrows find relief, 
Till hardship be to us hardship no more ; 

That Thou, by Thine abasement and deep loss, 
May'st clothe us with Thy Godhead by Thy Cross. 
So may our heart of hearts of Thee partake, 
Till sorrow becomes welcome for Thy sake, 
And e'en our punishment becomes our rest, 
Exalted more, the more we are oppress' d. 



" He shall gather the lamhs with His arm, and carry them in His bosom." 

Thy sanctifying Shadow rests on these, 

Therefore below do shame and sorrow prove 
Within illumined by Almighty love, 

And minister to gentle influences, 

Which hide themselves in shade from human eyes. 
Sweet scents and songs haunt lowly field and grove, 
From birds on streamlet banks, and woodland dove ; 

While mountain heights, bare in the summer skies, 
Shake from their haughty necks the genial rain, 
Of kites and birds of prey the wild domain. 

'Tis like frail man to love to walk on high, 
But to be lowly is to be as God ; 
It is to drink the wine-press He hath trod, 

Replete with strength and immortality. 


" As gold in the furnace hath He tried them, and received them as a burnt-offering. 

Oh, wondrous warning to our pride and mirth, 

Our God and King in infamy and pain ! 

And he that runs may read this lesson plain, 
That They Who know of things the eternal worth 
Mark this as man's best portion here on earth, — 

The wisdom of our God, though man's disdain, — 

That thus to suffer with Him is to reign ; 
His kingdom hath in man no other birth. 

Our God in sorrows ! heart- thrilling voice ! 
Truth, in characters of blood anneal' d ! 

By words, by sighs, by His example seal'd, 
Who made the lowest place His earnest choice : 
Once only His meek Spirit did rejoice, 

That this His Wisdom was to babes reveal' d. 


Whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after Me, cannot he My disciple. 

Oh, may we with an ever-deepening fear 

Gaze on these sorrows, where Thy Form is found 
With one Hand leaning on the bleeding ground, — 

One Hand that heavy burden strives to bear ! 

Thus may we to that awful cup draw near 
Thou had'st to drink amid that multitude, — 
Draw near, and look into that cup of Blood, 

And see our very selves reflected there. 
We too must of a cup of sorrow drink ; 

Our destined road is called " the vale of tears," 

Where we must bear our cross in human fears 
And sorrows, and to earth in silence sink. 

Each branch put forth in weakness must disclose 

An image of the Tree on which it grows. 


" Every one that is perfect shall be as his Master." 

Each branch that is disclosed as it expands 

Sets forth the Cross, each tendril that anew 

Is found thereon still hastes to bring to view 
Another and another ; as it stands, 
Each shews the Cross with its outstretching hands, 

Which seize their branching hold, celestial dew 

Imbibing, and the soft ethereal blue ; 
Such is the Vine of Salem in all lands. 

Each day, that hath in Christ its better birth, 
Must bear its Cross ; without that destined load 
'Tis a day lost on the once- traversed road 

To that eternity which springs from time ; 

It hath no tendrils that may upward climb 
Into the infinite, but falls to earth. 



" We will not sin, knowing that we are counted Thine." 

Lord, can it be that we, of feeble frame, 
By taking Thine own burden make it less, 
And share the weights that on Thy shoulders press 

As he who to the Holy City came, 

Meeting Thee in that hour of Thy distress, 

And followed, — for " obedience" was his name, — 
Bearing Thy Cross for Thee ; so dost Thou bless 

Obedience, and to Thee dost draw the same, 
When penitential thoughts within us burn. 
Yea, if so dear to Thee our love's return, 

That they who see Thy Face at this rejoice, 

Reading therein the Eternal Mind and Voice ; 
They and their love were present to Thee now, 
Like a refreshing breeze on Thy faint Brow. 

■ A 


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ST ANT03fY'1 


God, Who ~by the outward voice of Iky Word, 
and inward motion of Thy Grace didst stir- 
up the ilessed Antony to give up all things 
X7i order that Tie. might te perfect; grant fr] 
unto oJl-dum that have entered upon the. ,Q'.*.. \ 
race of Evangelical perfection,- so to run ' jS* 
that they may obtain thepri^e of *<, / % 
everlasting happiness ; through • ~, 
our Lord. '_ ^- -'^"i 


Grant, we pray Thee, Almighty Crod, that 
ovt holcung in memory the examples of 
Thy olesseol Saints may increase our 
oberotum, and tend- to our salvation,- 
through our Lord. 






But Jesus, turning unto them, said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for Me, but 
weep for yourselves and for your children." 

How many tears since that portentous morn 

Have been by pilgrims shed in that dear spot, — 

The way of sorrows, or in hallowed grot, 
Amid as now the unbeliever's scorn, 
Or at Gethsemane, and altars worn 

By kneeling worshippers, or on the height 

Of Calvary, or e'en at distant sight 
Of Salem on her mountain-seat forlorn ! 

Lest sin should be forgotten 'mid those tears, 
When tenderness intense hath wrapt the soul 

Of way-worn pilgrim, hath the stern appeal 
Of these Thy words, with a Divine control 

Himself unto himself served to reveal, 
And oped repentance on forgotten years. 


" For if they do these things in a green tree — " 

And not alone on Sion's holy ground 

Do these, Thy warning words, knock at the gate 
Of Conscience, with self-mourning and self-hate, 
But wheresoe'er the feeling soul is found, 
Which, half-forgetful of her own deep wound, 
Weeps at her Saviour's ills compassionate, 
But to her own true sorrows wakes too late, 
Or too remissly. When the day comes round, 

Each year or week which doth Thy woes present, 
Or hour which daily marks Thine agonies, 
So oft upon the soul Thine uprais'd eyes 
Are turned, — and these Thy words of sorrow call, 
" Weep not for Me, but your own sins lament, 
Beneath whose weight unto the ground I fall." 


" What shall he done in the dry ?" 

Weep not for Me, — for thine own children mourn, 

The offspring of thy bowels, evil deeds 

And evil thought, which from the heart proceeds 
These are the stripes by which My Flesh is torn ; 
These plant upon My Brows the twisted thorn, 

That as I sink and fall the pavement bleeds. 

For thee I weep, — for thy transcendent needs 
When on the dead dry tree the fire is born 
Which never more shall perish or decline ; 

When desolation at thy door appears, 
Thy visitation past, thy foes around : 

Therefore I bid thee join thy woes with Mine, 
While, ere those ever-during flames abound, 

They yet may be extinguished by thy tears. 



' Thou makest it soft with the drops of rain, and blessest the increase of it." 

Yea, Nature doth herself the type present 

Of penitential sorrow to our eyes, — 
Hanging with clouds the beauteous firmament, 
Not only 'mid fierce storms to winter lent, 

But also in the tranquil summer skies, 
Where love itself doth seem to spread his tent 

Above us, 'mid those crystal canopies, 

Without whose aid on earth each creature dies. 
The unclean spirit, banished from the blest, 
Walks ever through dry places seeking rest ; 

Where not a tear bedews the barren ground, 
But stern impenitence doth aye remain. 

He Who His blessed kingdom spreads around — 
He walketh on the clouds and giveth rain. 

He sendeth out His word, and melteth them : He bloweth with His wind, and the 
waters flow." 

To Thee mine eyes are turned, the hard rock smite, 
Grant me Thyself the gracious gift of tears 
To wash the wilderness of my past years, 

E'en such as Peter wept, woke by Thy light, 

Muffling his face in that o'erwhelming night : 
Or that loved sinner who 'mid guilty fears, 
In love o'erflowing, at Thy feet appears : 

Or saintly Magdalene, who in Thy sight 

Stood weeping at Thy grave, and thought Thee gone 
From her sad eyes ; those morning dew-drops shone 
In the Sun's beams one moment, then were flown 

For ever : or as he for his deep stain 

Wept tears which in his Sion still remain, 

To crystal turned in penitential strain. 


They shall come with weeping, and with supplications will I lead them : I will 
cause them to walk by the rivers of waters in a straight way." 

The gifts most gracious which descend from high 
Are 4 things that minister to sacred woe, 
That we thereby may learn ourselves to know, 

Bringing to view the things that had gone by. 

Thus distant mountains 'neath the o'erdarken'd sky 
Come near us, and distinct their shadows shew, 
'Neath clouds whose watery treasures drop below, 

And voices from afar come floating nigh. 

When summer suns grow warm on Cedron's vale, 

That brook of sorrows is no longer seen, 
The olives on its bank droop sere and pale. 

Thus when the world spreads o'er us skies serene, 
Forgotten are the thoughts of penitence, 
Which from dark heavens their fruitful tears dispense. 




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Uveth with ThM. Mf^- ™ ttFn ? 2S °*vy'* ™ rnay^roMiy 

■ ■■■ ■«*/'. -./'•■'. their examples,- thro >ugh cur lord. 





They shall move out of their holes like worms of the earth ; they shall be afraid of 
the Lord our God, and shall fear because of Thee." 

The long and heavy Cross extended lies 

In Golgotha, where on the hideous ground 

Many a bone and skull is haply found 
Unburied ; and in holes where once were eyes 

Stables some creeping thing, and looks around, 
And 'mid the wrecks of human miseries 
Bears witness to the worm that never dies 

In the soul's burial-place. What if that sound 
Comes from the depths of secret Providence, 

Which speaks of man's first parent buried there ? 
Howbeit, in remembrance of that worm 
Which raised in Paradise its serpent form, 
It seems to mock at his inheritance, 

Cradling itself in crime's worst sepulchre. 



" Let his net that he hath hid catch himself; into that very destruction let him fall. 

Himself deceived, the sire of death and lies 
Deems not how soon on that sepulchral floor 
He this his short-lived triumph shall deplore ; 

That Golgotha he fills with scornful cries 

Is the gate of a better paradise 

Which he shall never enter any more, 

Of which that cruel wood is now the door. 

That Cross he now delights in, to his eyes 

Henceforth shall be a thing at which, recoiled, 
He to the lowest depths shall sink despoiled, 

As lightning falls from heaven ; that Cross shall prove 

The very sceptre of all-conquering love, 

Marked on each brow, and reared the heart within, 
A refuge from himself and powers of sin . 

And laid the wood in order" ..." and laid him on the altar upon the wood. 

Upon the ground extended lies the Rood, 
In substance, not in shadow, to that mount 
Which the true Isaac bare. Who shall recount 

His pains, as 'mid the unpitying multitude 
And scornful priests, from His pure virginal Flesh, 
Marked with those livid wounds that bleed afresh, 

They strip His robe adhesive, — on the wood 

They stretch His pallid Body ; with His Blood 
The One true Priest His Altar doth anoint, 
As through His outstretch' d palms the iron point 

They drive, and through His feet the piercing wound. 
His bones may all be number' d, joint by joint. 

The God Who made all creatures, on the ground 

Rack'd on the accursed wood lies prostrate bound ! 


" He is chastened also with pain upon his bed, and the multitude of his bones with 
strong pain." 

Such was the dying bed Thou didst sustain, 

That mind or body found no place of ease, 
While mockery stood by, and fierce disdain : 

But us, 'mid all our sins, if Thou should' st please 

To lay at death's dark portal, while disease 
Doth drop by drop our ebbing life-blood drain, 

Thou sett'st around us tender offices, 
And makest soft with love the bed of pain, 

While watchers which about us gently stir 
Are taught by Thee ; and e'en, far more than those, 

Thou art Thyself our very Comforter ; 
From that our pillow of desired repose 

Thou tak'st the thorns, and for Thine own dost wear, 
Laying Thine Head upon their piercing throes. 


■ When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came in 
unto Thee." 

Lord, I have gazed upon approaching death, 

When things which this our earthly sojourn bless 
Seemed as in distance growing less and less, 

Nor knew before what love then cherisheth, 

Spreading the everlasting Arms beneath, 
So terrible in Thy deep tenderness, 
Which tears alone in silence can express, 

With the faint sinking frame and failing breath. 
Then, 'mid the agonies of mortal fear, 
When dark eternity knocked at the door, 

In utter helplessness and guilty pain 

Did Thy absolving keys my soul sustain ; 

Conscious at that dread hour that Thou wast near, 

I felt a blessedness unknown before. 



" I am the man that hath seen affliction hy the rod of His wrath." 

But not so was Thine own departing bed, 

When they of Thine acquaintance stood aloof, 
Their love in fear forgotten, and reproof 

Had broke Thine heart, when in that hour so dread 

All was out-poured on Thine unsheltered Head, 
Which stood the impetuous storm in our behoof ; 
When terrors thronged the sky's o'er-arching roof, 

And evil spirits were around Thee shed. 

Then as the nails Thy tender hands did strain, 
When cruelty sought out each place of pain ; 

So did the sinews of Thine heart give way 
Beneath the arrows of the Almighty's wrath, 
When Thou didst stand in our descending path 

To take on Thee our load in sad dismay. 

Wm Hi 


1 on t\)t altar of tl}t 
I <£ro#£ biHt offer up] 

fl It H I fotytV fot 

ttywi ty&t crnaftibi 
Wc^u^xmX tfjat J 
rxt&nbtnutk artf> 
Lotal^ tit tort an* 
map lab* titi rie cntmim 



_Z/for <wr sacrifice, may ~be huR and^ erttme, 
grant, Goal, that vrt may count all things 
oztl^ss for &ie excellency cftkeTcwm* 
of OinstJesiLS oicr lord; arJi after .-?*& 
the example, ofifas ThyTea/Pner may 
Tawvrno&ving tutJesvus Christ, and, 
Fun Cruafed, Who B zff-. . ^2MSSMl$'3& 

Grant, L oral, to the. sacred, -ministry of Thy 

«3£ jftt Church the spirit of wisdom and courage, by 

-z-J&r which, the tlessed John, Ckrysostonv ceased. 

jjjaf. -,jwt to convince sinners, anal for t??,e cove 

^i§p& of Thy name, overcame marvcfoial tribu.- 

,'•?; -•; ,v ■:/■■'■''■'■■.:'. 'Loral, 






" And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto Me." 

And now, with strength combined of murderous hands, 
The Cross uplifted Thy pale Frame sustains, 
Rooted and fixed with violence, which strains 
Thy wounds afresh ; and as it upward stands, 
Thine own deep wounds themselves are made the bands 
That hold Thee on death's bed ; with bursting veins 
Thy Body hangs upon its own dread pains. 
Each way extending, broad as Thy commands, 

Deep as Thy judgments, as Thy mercies high, 
It stretches forth ; and shews with mystic sign 
The breadth, and depth, and height of Love Divine, 
Which forms ineffably that throne of Thine ; 
Broad as all space in boundless majesty, 
Deeper than Hell, and higher than the sky. 




" I became dumb, and opened not my mouth ; for it was Thy doing.' 

Thus He Who is Himself the Eternal Truth 
Turns into truth these shadows as they pass, 
And makes men's evil deeds to be the glass 

To mirror His perfections ; for, in sooth, 

He works His will alike in weal or ruth. 
As shadows that fleet o'er the waving grass 
Are but reflections of the cloudy mass 

That range the heavens above, and vex or soothe 
The summer skies, filling the passive hills 

With thunder-falls or spots of dark repose ; 
E'en so whate'er for final good He wills 

In man's free agencies He will disclose ; — 

Infinite Love ! though man, 'neath seeming ills, 

Knows not His coming steps, nor where He goes. 


" He that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin." 

And now the lifting-up sets open wide 
The gates of agony : thus to fulfil 
The accumulated crown of murderous skill. 
They who are lifted heavenward, by His side, 
Upon their Cross in patience must abide. 
Because He willed, He suffered ; 'tis the will 
That sanctifies the suffering, and sets still 
Each thought that to impatience is allied ; 

'Tis suffering that affords the wond'rous price 
To every guilt-atoning sacrifice. 
The oiFerings of Cain were fruits of earth, 
Not sanctified by suffering, nothing worth ; 
But Abel's worthier gift was of the slain, 
And dying animals that spoke of pain. 



" He stood between the dead and the living; and the plague was stayed." 

When Thou wast laid on the sin-cursed ground 
(Man's hiding-place until the day of doom), 
It, sanctified by Thee, became the womb 

Of Resurrection. Now, 'mid skies around, 

The living Victim to the Altar bound, 
'Mid universal nature's dreadful gloom 
Thou shedd'st Thy light our darkness to illume ; 

With patience and with love immortal crowned, 
Our Conqueror lifted on Thy throne ; and there, 
Pursuing through his realms the prince of air, 

From soul-destroying vapours and disease 
Clearing the foul and poisonous atmosphere ; 

Henceforth a road for saints to mount the skies, 
Full of celestial and sweet influences. 


To set up on high those that be low ; that those which mourn may be exalted to 

The Cross is lifted up on Calvary's height, 

And we thereby are lifted up to Heaven ; 

Such earth-redeeming power therein is given. 
The beasts may earthward bend their lowering sight, 
But man doth bear his countenance upright, 

That he may gaze upon the Cross and live, 

And our aflections so may upward strive, 
Taking their wing from thence and power of flight 

To Heaven. Form of everlasting flame, 
Fed by the anointing of the oil of love, 

Be in us, that, untired and still the same, 
Our busy-searching thoughts may ever move 

Upward, unto the place from whence they came ! 



He that findeth his life shall lose it ; and he that loseth his life for My sake shall 
find it." 

There is a tale in Eastern fable told 

Of a magnetic isle in distant seas, 

To which as barks borne by the heavenly breeze 
Approach, in manner strange and manifold, 
The iron spars no longer keep their hold, 

But part in sunder. Thus when ride at ease, 

Knit by a thousand iron purposes, 
The full-rigged schemes of worldlings proud and bold, 

They loosely walk, as on a summer sea, 

Upon their own unfathomed destiny ; 
But if by timely Providences driven 
To Thee, the stable Truth and land of Heaven, 
Then all their worldly homes are sunder riven, 

And they who seize the Wood 1 are borne to Thee. 

i " God has afforded the plank or wood by which we may reach the shore, and that 
wood is the Cross of Christ. One who has no eyes to see embraces this Cross ; and 
while from afar he knows not whither he is to go, if he looses not his hold on this 
wood, it will bear him to it." — St. Augustin, in Joan. Evan. ii. 

; M 


a $exb 3ezn Christ 

'■ $M)0 fcttet aite Wty mast 
i^lnliiflao to ftotxj fromflmte 
whale Birtra, in arbor that 
^{jm* miajbfet toasf) us 

*,.. from sin-, forgifee 
Nf ^ \me all *Pt 


mitte imqmtos anb 
oelttJer me from tbr lake 
of lelL 




^ £0^, Whom, with trie Reused Avgustin, we axhnow- 
:^fl ledge, in. this sacred mystery foleihe food, of oahes 
on earth,/ grant of Thy great goodness that we may 
thereby le rendered meet to partake uiHearai of that 
through Tcecpvng of Thy comTriandnunts we may he "^^ <j meat which belongs to those who hare come to tlizjuU 
prepared, for the joys of Heaven.; through Sec. ^^C s ^ ure °f Christ; through kc. 

&od, Vflw didst endwe Ambrose, Thy holy Bishop, 
with boldness to rebuke and, sweetness tojpersuadx.- 
grant that refreshed ay the sweetness of Thy toy 
we may so give heed unto his teaching, that 




" It is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul." 
" Ye shall pour it upon the earth as -water." 

Blood from His Hands is falling, drop by drop, 
And from His Temples ; now in streams they roll- 
Haste downward to the earth as to their goal ; 

Now hang on His pale Body, and there stop, 

Or on the wood below ; till from the top 

Unto the base the blood-stains mark the whole. 
Such is the value of each human soul, 

Which doth outweigh the world ; and such the crop 
Of thorns which Adam sowed in Paradise. 

What marvel, then, at sight of such deep woe, 
If penitential love should hide her eyes 

From all the pleasant things which are below, 
In cloistral cells of prayer ; nor seek relief 
But in each sternest discipline of grief? 


" Ye shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of." 

For doubtless hence whatever things belong 

To shame and pain and bodies mortified 

To Heavenward aspirations are allied, 
With an intercommunion strange and strong. 
Love from the ever-present sense of wrong 

Finds no repose, save when she can abide 

On any image of the Crucified, 
Which in herself she finds, her sins among. 

For else the Church could nothing do but mourn 
With lamentable moans, like one unblest ; 

But when she finds her cross she upward springs, 
Herself forgetting ; like the dove forlorn, 

When cross-ways she expands her balanced wings 
On bosom of the sky she is at rest. 


" Thou feddest Thine own people with angels' food." 

When veins which swell with sensuous low desire 
Are emptied and made thin with abstinence, 
Thy Blood Divine shall from the heart dispense 

To all the frame Its own celestial fire, 

Known but in thoughts which upward shall aspire, 
Felt not nor seen ; but throughout every sense 
Send forth the savour of Omnipotence, 

To cleanse the will diseased, and to attire 
Decaying limbs with immortality ; 

Which, after they put off the sinful flesh, 

With undecaying light shall bloom afresh ; 
Obedience henceforth lost in love divine, 
The body all celestial discipline, 

Filled with Resurrection and with Thee. 



" The elements were changed in themselves by a kind of harmony." 

'Tis Thou dispensest the life-giving shower 

Through the vine's verdant veins, its hue and shape 
Instilling, till there hangs the purple grape, 

And we discern the hidden Bridegroom's power 

In water changed to wine : or thence that flower 
Nurturing to be Thy Passion's portraiture, 
In semblance of Thy sorrows to endure ; 

With hanging thorny crowns, and leaves spread o'er 
Like human-fingered palms, which bring to view 

Thy pains for us on the accursed Tree. 

Thus with Thy Blood, as with celestial dew, 
The kingdom of the soul Thou dost renew 

With fruits and flowers divine, where angels see 

Nought but developments which speak of Thee. 


That Thy children, O Lord, whom Thou lovest, might know that it is not the 
growing of fruits that nourisheth man ; but that it is Thy Word." 

So shall Thy Blood become to us new wine, 
New wine of God, that maketh glad the heart 
Of the meek soul that hath in Thee her part ; 

And multiplied throughout in every sign, 

Thy death our life, Thy memories are a shrine 

From evil thoughts. Yea, from ourselves Thou art 
Our covering and our refuge. Ne'er to start 

Away from this the spirit's rest divine, 

Allured by cares or pleasures, love or strife, 
To the bad world ; but here, for this short life, 

In Thy dear Blood upon ourselves to gaze, 

As in a fountain lit by the sun's rays : 

In Thee, the Eternal Mind, ourselves to know — 
This is the highest wisdom here below. 


Where water stood before, dry land appeared ; and out of the Red Sea a way 
without impediment." 

Nor wonder that the Blood of Very God 

In union with our manhood hath such power 
To change our being in this life's short hour ; 
So that, awakened from an earthly clod, 
Christ shall lead forth with His Almighty rod 
Sons to replenish Heaven ; as the fair flower 
Springs upward, quickened by the vernal shower, 
'Mid foulest elements of mouldering sod, 
The refuse of the world ; as worms of earth 
To fair-winged flies that soar to heaven give birth : 
Thus, quickened by His Blood, to life shall move 
The spirits which shall dwell with God above, 
'Mid things which here offend the delicate sense, 
And self-debasing arts of penitence. 1 

1 Infructuosae arhori stercus adhibitum figura pcenitentiae.— St. August., vol. 
p. 1529, Par. ed. 



%m t\yi altar $i fye 

1 €x$&& ikibjgt offer ttp 

%\mdiUtht<&itx- , 

I tiai ftdfytx for 4 

fluent ty&i cxvutifttto d| 

map be merit xxib 
lotutg m ftrart, an* 
map Uu mirtr memiw 


That our sacrifice, may ~be full and, entire., 
grant, Goal, that we may count all thing, 
out loss for ike excellency of the TtnowleJge 
of Christ Jesus ourZord,anal after 
the example, of -das Thy Teacher may 
TcrunYnotha/Lg oat Jesus Christ, and. 
Mm Crucified, Wh/) Tiveth, 


* Grant, L oral, to the sacred- -mtnzstry of Thy 
v . ^ Church, the spirit of wisdom and courage, ~by 
■J^T which ike. Messed. JohnCkrysostom, cased 
not to convince sinners, anal for Ju love 
of Thv name overcount TrutnifvloL tribu- 
lations,- through our lord. 





When we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of His Son. 

To love, be loved, and loved to love again, 
This, this is human at man's best estate : 
To love not loved, with good to antedate 

All love ; to pour forth good, and thence obtain 

Neglect, unthankfulness, and proud disdain ; 
To yearn in tender love compassionate 
O'er enemies that triumph in their hate ; 

To pray amid the agonies of pain 

For stern tormentors : this — this is Divine ; 

This is the inextinguishable Flame 

That from the Cross, as from a central shrine, 

Doth quicken all Creation ; this above 
Writes up the incommunicable Name 

In burning characters, that God is Love. 



" God is love." 

Love amid sufferings seen ; oh, wondrous sight ! 
Unearthly Love, the everlasting Fire, 
His Head encircled with the bleeding brier, 

Amid His foes with strange unharming might, 

Consumes not, but sends forth celestial light, 
Feeding on heaped-up ills ; thence to aspire, 
With ampler volume, higher still and higher 

Upward into its native Infinite ; 

Building upon the woes which men have fearec 

A ladder whereon saints to Heaven may rise. 

By mystic staff brought forth to human eyes, 
Thus, feeding on the sacrifice, appeared 
Flames from the rock, and as they upward veered, 

The angel sought therein his native skies. 

They are Thine, Lord, Thou lover of souls ; for Thine incorruptible Spirit is in 
all things." 

What are the pillars that support the skies, 
HoldiDg the mirror of heart-cheering blue? 
'Tis all-embracing Love that comes to view, 

Whose pillars are the prayers of Him Who dies 

For good and evil, friends and enemies. 

What is the earth, with every form and hue 
Through each successive season ever new, 

But Love, whose fostering bosom never dries ; 
Whose adamantine arms are spread beneath, 
Sustaining just and unjust until death? 

And what are seas majestic as they move, 

With moon and stars that sleep upon their breast, 
As on the shore they rise, then sink to rest ; 

What do their mighty throbbings speak but — Love ? 



" And he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him." 

But more than all in men of spirit poor, 

When sickness or pale fasts the feelings bless, 
Love comes to man in her unearthly dress ; 

Things long since passed, that she shall see no more, 

Approach her from the everlasting shore ; 
And something of a solemn tenderness 
The overflowing spirit will oppress. 

While of occasions which had once touched sore, 
And ministered unkindness, nought remains 
But grieving Love, which, with unquiet pains, 
Fain would undo Hate's sin-engendering stainr^ 

But cannot : inwardly the spirit bleeds, 

And for herself and others ceaseless pleads ; 

While nothing else but prayer can speak her needs. 


" Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." 

A little child that folds in love's embrace 

One that had harmed it, and forgives the wrong — 

Of all things which to earth, sea, sky belong, 
This is the fairest ; for it finds a place 
Within the better kingdom of God's grace, 

Filling us with emotions deep and strong, 

Which seek a vent in tears or holy song ; 
And sets to view the Infant Saviour's Face 

More than the painter's skill,— the Holy Child 

To those that harmed Him more than reconciled, 
With meek forgiveness His avenging rod ; 
Bringing on foes the Presence of their God, 

That Presence which is love yet coals of fire, 

Melting to penitence the murderer's ire. 



" Charity never faileth." 

Then, Lord, for this Thy Cross and Thy dear sake, 
Teach me that hard-earned skill of loving all, 
Foes, friends, and good and evil, great and small ; 

Of all things wherein self doth pleasure take 

My being to unclothe, and from me shake 
All those impediments and weights that fall 
On the up-veering wing, or sounds that call 

From behind : thus my stedfast bent to make, 
And the undeviating course to choose, 
Till all that's mine and mine own self I lose 

In everlasting Love ; and seen no more : 
As birds that fly into the sunlight, till 
The eye can no more follow them, o'er hill, 

And valley, and deserted silent shore. 

-> . 


# JSvrto $e*n tibvistMfa 
$aib$t xxntc x\e fyief, 
tobicl) \)&xt$zb mfyWtytt 

upon me, an^ babe mercy 
upmt me, anb in $£ i)mvc 
of fcmfl) veceibe %l)$n 


j S? JEROME. J Q> 

.May fA-e^e TTiy foZy mysteries, Lord., bring grace. 

unto us,- that with, ike blessed Jerome, being pureed, 
with The dread, of Thy judgments , we may he 
epdbled to restrain, dJl sinful desires, and, stead, 
ly to cZeare, unto Thy commandments, through. &c 

God, iht Crown, of 3ishoj>s, and the light of Teachers, 
« Who didst appoint the blessed Gregory to be a. Bishop 
- ' and Teacher in, Thy Church/ vouchsafe to edify us 
Ifastv St Brfc by His xTistrudMns and to conform, us to hU example, 
c. If V V 



through &-c 




" Where I am, there shall also My servant be." 

Not in the dark meridian firmament 

Would we discern our God ; not in that cloud, 
Nor in that Voice in dying heard aloud, 

Which shook Creation, and the strong rocks rent ; 

But in that pitying voice of One half-spent, 
Beneath of coming death the silent shroud, 
Which prayer of the meek penitent allowed ; 

And still small answer of the Omnipotent, 

Which spoke of endless morn ere day was run, 
In Paradise, lit by the eternal Sun. 

Oh, that before I die that gentle word 

Might come unto my spirit, breathing rest ; 
Then worlds might part asunder, in my breast 

Nothing but that small Voice shall more be heard ! 



Oh, let the sorrowful sighing of the prisoners come before Thee ; according to the 
greatness of Thy power preserve Thou those that are appointed to die." 

From this Thy Mercy-seat, before all eyes, 

Thou stretchest forth Thine arms unto all space, 

Inviting all unto Thy love's embrace — 
All comprehending as the summer skies, 
Which bend to earth with fostering charities. 

But upon whom, and in what hour of grace, 

Dost Thou lift up Thy beatific Face, 
With whispering Voice that speaks of Paradise ? 

Not on the rich, the many, or the great : 
On one alone ; on one, in this world's view, 

A wretched outcast, scorned and desolate ; 
Who shares the Cross with Thee and owns it due, 

Claiming the King of sorrows as his own, 

And 'neath the o'erwhelming cloud discerns His throne. 


' He will deliver his soul from going into the pit, and his life shall see the light." 

Oh, might I 'neath that shadow find repose 
In the assured hope of endless morn, 
As all things I behold are westward borne 

Unto their setting and the daylight's close ! 

But while I see Thy Face in dying throes, 
A thousand voices call to me to mourn, 
And cry aloud within my breast forlorn, 

Ah, no ! ah, no ! thou canst not be as those, 
Or as that penitent who, in his pangs, 
Upon the bed of death in sorrow hangs ! 

Oh, faith beyond all faithfulness ! when all 

Forsook and fled, when e'en Apostles fall, 
As death's dark valley they together trod, 
He in the Man of Sorrows knows his God. 



" When my heart is in heaviness I will think upon God." 

But in that dreadful secret not to press, 
And with no vain presuming confidence 
Of what must be at our departure hence, 

While sitting at death's portal we confess 

The heart-felt sense of our unworthiness 

Of aught but pains ; then with no vain pretence 
The Spirit Which is veiled from outward sense 

May in the sight of his own nothingness 
Comfort the mourner ; for, in very deed, 
We know full well the hour of pressing need 

Is the time ever chosen for relief, 

And prayer hath comfort in the hour of grief ; 
Such grace hath Baptism unto suffering given ; 
Yet Love still fears on verge of Hell or Heaven. 


" I will be as the dew unto Israel: he shall grow as the lily." 
" My root was spread out by the waters, and the dew lay all night upon my 

The lily, some lone fountain's favoured child, 
Holds all aloof from intercourse of earth, 
Wherein it has below its secret birth ; 

But in some watery hollow, free and wild, 

Lifts up its virgin whiteness, undefiled, 

Suffused with blushes ; when the sun grows warm 
Stretches its stalk erect, and lifts its form 

Above the pool's calm face awhile beguiled ; 

But when night's shades come on, its air-borne crest 
Contracts again, folds up its blooming breast, 
And on the watery surface is at rest. 

Thus though awhile the spirit proudly shews, 

Yet only, when the shades around her close, 

On her baptismal waters finds repose. 



They shall be amazed at the strangeness of his salvation beyond all that they 
looked for." 

Yet surely often no enlivening ray 

Doth lighten the dark valley at its close, 
When busy thought finds no place for repose, 

But ever-during dark shuts out the day. 

Yea, e'en on pure meek spirits oft dismay 
Hangs, and expectance of the penal woes : 
In that deep water-flood which o'er them goes, 

Of God's dark judgments, none can trace the way. 
Yet such are blessed, if thus made at last 
Like to the Son of God ; and when 'tis past, 

Where on the clay-cold features and closed eyes, 

Death sits, there cometh forth a glad surprise, 
Which says it is " far better," 1 or in doom 
They hear, yet scarce believe, the blessed "Come !" 2 

» Phil. i. 23. 2 St. Matt. xxv. 34. 




| THE 

Whine h$*tf\t%\ 
f IfotycCbtb&ib thy 

0loti)tr limb tixb&t 
t\)txety tttfimate 

btfifytx$ nuta 
%\)t$, Uxsk upmt vtis 
tot ht$eetfy ®fyt*iXLtit 
&& $txbmxx& but n$ 
Wtyy bxetyxm.tfyat 

yix\\t-\?xx& ttJttfi ^^ ? 
She* of Sto-p fei^bmi^ - 


<W, Wu? wert pleased, to 
Messed, TabricJc as Confesso 
Bishop tojireaxh Thy Gio 
among ike. Gentiles j grant that 
Try Thxne avoi we may le enabled 
in -fulfil those things which <? 
Thou Tutst cornrriarided us to do,-, 
through our Lord Sec . 

o send tie ¥ (&^* ^ ^' 

Who qirest tjls holy Bishops 
tor tkt eternal sribratioTisof Thy 
,* pevpU; grant that as we 
Yeneroute their memory 

A JL ^^E^ -upon, earth, we may oe 
Jt '"\^$rT^ urcvtecL, with (deem uv 

.Heaven,, through our lord &c. 






Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on 
the son of her womb ? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee." 

Not in the glowing centre of all bliss, 

But in the sea of overwhelming woe, 

Of sorrow beyond sorrows which men know, 
The Teacher's chair is set ; the dark abyss 
Surrounds Him, yet can move no thought amiss, 

Or ruffle with impatience His meek Brow, 

Calm as the face of summer lake. And now 
What is the lesson at death's gate, but this — 

The touching lore of filial piety, 
With human sweet affections at the close, 
Amid the multitude of dying throes ? 

And these Thy loving words for ever rest, 
Like a rose-tinged cloud on evening sky 

That lingers, of the golden rays possessed. 




" Their soul was poured out into their mother's bosom. '" 

That cloud is soon to fall in tears, when night 

Drops on that Mother of all mothers — left 

To solitude and stillness, and bereft 
Of hope beyond all hope, and guiding light. 
The sword is in her soul, and out of sight 

Her wounds drop tears of blood ; yet every pang 

Is known to Him Whose death-pale looks now hang, 
In pity and compassions infinite, 

Upon His Mother. Mother ! blessed name 
Of Mother, nearest to the human heart ! 
Affection first to come, last to depart ! 

And He Who all things hallows to new love 
Shall to His children grant His Church to claim 

As Mother, and a filial love to prove. 


" Thou art a place to hide me in." 

If such Thy blessing upon filial love, 
That it should be the root of love Divine 
And semblance, and, matured in hallowed shrine, 

Nurtured and fed by dews of Heaven, should prove 

Love of a Father Who doth dwell above ; — 
Itself diffusing in all discipline, 

Beneath the fostering of the eternal Dove ; — 
Then, Lord, how awful was that love of Thine 

To her that bore Thee in a virgin's womb, 

Upon whose breasts Thine infant yearnings hung, 
To whom Thine infant hymns of praise were sung, 

Who watched Thy dying, saw Thee in the tomb ? 
But in compassion to our spirits frail, 
All is withdrawn within the silent veil. 



" He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me." 

And yet e'en filial love Thou hast put by, 

In singleness of spirit to sustain 

And build the walls of Thine unearthly reign, 
Which doth require a nobler piety. 

As where the Sun meridian mounts on high, 
The shadows pass away from hill and plain, 
And nothing but the substance doth remain 

Beneath the blue encircling of the sky; 
Or as when Day doth his broad pinions shake, 
The lantern worms which shone within the brake 

Hide, and the lights which heaven's high pathway trod. 
So are all lesser duties full of one 
Which all fulfils, — the Presence of our Sun ; 

And filial love is lost in love of God. 

Whosoever shall do the will of My Father which is in Heaven, the same is My 
brother, and sister, and mother." 

Wonderful nearness unto God made Man, 
" My brother, sister, mother !" thus we see 
Strangely fulfilled that other mystery; 

To Thy true children, in the eternal plan, 

Manifold more vouchsafed for life's short span, 
"Brethren, sisters, and mothers," 1 and to be 
The pledge of everlasting life with Thee ; 

Kindred that turn not to the grey and wan, 
But Christ our very Brother — gracious gift ! 

" My earthly Mother I to thee resign, — 

My Mother, loved disciple, to be thine ; 
Thou of thy kindred 2 art for Me bereft, 
By Me awhile and by thy brother 3 left : 

Yet I am still thy Brother, thou art Mine." 

J Mark x. 30. 2 Matt. iv. 22. 3 Acts xii. 2. 



" Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it." 

"Woman, behold thy son!" — him that finds rest 
Upon the bosom of Goodness Infinite, 
Till truth, and love, and everlasting light, 

Were ever on his tongue and in his breast. 

Oh, above women she, and he most blest 
Of men ; though now of all, to human sight, 
Most pitiable both, with nought but night 

Around their sorrows ! with their weight oppress' d, 
He takes thee to his home with nursing care. 

And yet what home hath he who nothing hath, 

Except to share his solitary path, 

Bereaved with thee bereaved ? yea, 'tis to share 

The twofold light of faith amid the gloom, 

And in the Will Divine to find a home. 



U Mss mibst at Ways I 

tea% $\ai\tx mtte W% 
banbs J ccmmmfc Mv 

*%*, %f 3 bnn$ betfi 
unto $in maj Ittie 
nnU W$ee. 

0&°d,Wtw,h,xJ&y the flame of love in Thy 
servant J* Bernard,, didst make him. to U 
a. Jmnung ana shining light in Ihy Cfacr, 
grant to ixs also the same spirit of tovejhat 
»■ may ever walk lefore Thee as children 
rf light; through our Lord kc . 

Wukwlr, lord, we. leseech Thee in Thy 
Church the Spirit of Thy grate, with vshich 
Thau. luLst Jill the ikssei Charles. Thy 
a^Jlxshopi that Thy flock, may in aJljkcts 
> succeed and prosper, and Tmstors under Thy 
V.'Z' .;.;■- & gorerrumtx, may be ever grateful to 
Thy name, through our lord fa-,. 



" I am in misery, and like unto him that is at the point to die." 

With Eyes which now are closed, now ope anew, 
As spirits faintly ebb and faintly flow 
In dying ; with pale Head that now droops low, 

Now turns this side, now that, with death's cold dew 

Suffused ; now faint upraising turns to view, 

With prayers that look to Heaven, as some sore woe 
Breaks on the languishment of death ; and now 

The slumbers of the grave press and pursue 
Retiring life ; while faint, with fevered tongue, 

He thirsts, — with heart that burns to do God's will ; 

He thirsts, — each word prophetic to fulfil : 

And thus, with trembling hands, His foes among, 

Seizes and holds the cup of bitterness, 

To His parched lips the dregs of woe to press. 



" Love is strong as death." 

On sable wings, o'ershadowing the sun's rays, 
Death came, as to his own appointed reign, 
Where he beheld the torturing beds of pain, 

Scenting afar his quarry. With amaze 


He back recoils, and upon One cloth gaze 
Whom he hath had no warrant to detain ; 
Sinless, and yet with sorrows, his sad train, 

Consorting. At the sight he doubting stays, 
Till He Who issued from the Virgin's womb, 
With voice omnipotent that cried aloud, 
Shewed Himself, amid nature's awful gloom, 

Stronger than death in dying ; then resigned 
Himself a willing Victim ; dying bowed, 

And on His Father's Breast His Head reclined. 

" I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do." 

"'Tis finished !" That voice hath reached the shore 

Of never-ending ages, and more far 

Than hath been traversed by the highest star ; 
Swifter than lightning it hath pierced the door 
Of Hell, and echoes there for evermore. 

'Tis finished : Death from life's theatre 

The everlasting portals doth unbar, 
The sinless Soul hath passed, and all is o'er. 

It is a moment which we all must see, 

On which there hangs a whole eternity, 
And which to each can be but once ; when they 
Who now in Heaven watch this our trial day 

Shall to each other say, "'tis finished ;" 
And men on earth shall whisper, " he is dead." 



" Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no 
evil ; for Thou art with me." 

This thought it is which, if our love were cold, 
Might lead us still, from very sympathy, 
To hang our eager eyes and hearts on Thee : 

That this most fearful moment must be told, 

Whose memory shall never more grow old ; 

And that we have no strength in that dread hour 
But that which emanates from this Thy power 

In dying. Mortals now most proud and bold, 

Who set at naught that hour, shall then most need 

Thy succour, and a heart to Thee fast knit 
In fellowship of suffering, used to feed 

On Thee, and by austere self-rule made fit 

For thoughts which ever from Thy Cross proceed, 

'Neath which all penitential mourners sit. 


" Let us go forth, therefore, unto Hirn without the camp, bearing His reproach." 

The goat, for the Lord's household to atone, 

Bleeding and slain upon the altar lay, 

As the most Sacred Body on this day : 
The living goat, which, when all else was done, 1 
Was let go to the wilderness unknown, 

"Bearing the sins of many," did portray 

The Sacred Soul, which suffered such dismay 
And sorrow, and from sight of men was gone. 

Victims on which were laid the sins of men 

Polluted and polluting were, and then 
"Without the gate," as some accursed thing, 
Cast forth : and surely tins Sin-offering 

Were one accepted, and of boundless price, 

If shame and pain can mark a sacrifice. 

1 See Levit. xvi. 20 : " And when he had made an end," &c. ; compare with John 
xix. 28, 30. . 



" She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks.' 

Rizpah, that keepeth watch upon her Seven, 
Sets forth the sevenfold grief of her bereaved 
Of Kim Who seven fulfils, until received 

Into the Eighth of Rest, the day of Heaven. 
The sixth is now consummate ; this same even 

Man was in Eden made ; and now, reprieved 

From Eden's curse, mankind, in Christ relieved, 
Shall enter on the Sabbath, where 'tis given 

To rest alone with God. Thus now I know, 

Daughter of Aiah, why thy sorrows so 
To holy mention have been consecrate ; 
And why thy weeping form early and late 
On Gibeah's hill sits sad and desolate, 

The image of another's deeper woe. 

; S% 

p*<yr the PRAYER. 

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#&w£, M<7 didst give unto Thy servant 
SPIouis, ainidst the deceMd,jplcasio , \- of 
a temporal Jcuiqolom,,tc long witkhu 
whole heart after the. joys of that 
-which, is eternal, grant us, we „, "" 
_pray Thee, to oe lovers of the % p 
same joYS; of "which we receive 
the pledge in, this St 
through &c. 

&M*&^ OGod Whs '-Jiclest our Messed. 

Sovereign to o& more than Conoaer- 
-gf±.er through Him 'That loved us, 
gf^* 'grant tkat we, may mutate, His 
W&^ f ^^ charity, and with, him, 
V^ : , lecome mhentors of that ctowtv 
which fadeth not away ,■ through 
our Lord . 






" But it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light." 

The dreadful scene is o'er, the woe is past, 
And closed in death ; yet penitential grief 
Clings to the silent Cross, nor seeks relief 

Elsewhere but there alone ; the sun o'ercast, 

Which hid itself in sorrow, now at last 

Looks forth again : hut in one day so brief 

What scenes crowd thick for prayer or calm belief ! 

Loaded with destinies the minutes haste, 
And in one moment all is finished. 
Man lives, the Giver of all life is dead ; 

Man by His dying lives, by living dies 
To what in him was human, lives to God : 

Sin dies and man revives ; the serpent lies 
Slain by God-Man on the extended rod. 

106 Christ's body on the cross. 


" O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" 

How terrible and deep is this repose ! 

There is no stillness like the calm of death 

That stops the beating heart and stills the breath ; 
For so hath God ordained, that at the close 
Sad Meditation veil'd in silent woes 

Beneath the shadow of eternity 

May sit, in silence like the evening sky. 
But this, though companied with dying throes, 

is not as other deaths ; for Death that seems 
Upon the still cold limbs and hanging head 

To sit as victor, while he little deems, 
Himself is by his conquest vanquished : 

Hope in despair is planted ; and the beams 
Of morning are on day's departing- shed. 


" Who going through the vale of misery use it for a well : and the pools are rilled 
with water. They will go from strength to strength." 

From hall of Judgment, by " the way of woe," 
To Golgotha and that sepulchral hill, 
The numbered " stations" 1 mark each spot of ill; 

Whereon with faltering footsteps, sad and slow, 

The pensive pilgrims linger as they go, 

From scene to scene, from step to step, and still 
From each anew their labouring bosoms fill 

With prayer and praise. Each place, while from below 
They upward wind, as flowers which bow their head 
Beneath the passing footsteps as we tread, 

Breathes incense of good thoughts, which shall imbue 
The soul for future years. Thus mindful love 
May pause upon each theme, and, like the dove, 

In one same measured plaint her strain renew. 

i The " stations" now observed through the Holy City are fourteen in number. 
See De Geramb's Palestine, vol i. lett. xxiii. 

Christ's body on the cross. 107 


Precept upon precept, precept upon precept ; line upon line, line upon line ; here a 
little, and there a little." 

Why should I not beneath the Cross lie still, 
Recounting o'er and o'er the self-same beads, 
Though the proud world rides by and nothing heeds, 

While musing Meditation has her fill 
In sonnet after sonnet poured forth, till 

Goodwill itself is weariness, and needs 

Variety, to sooth that faith that feeds 
Upon the memories of that dreadful hill 

Of sorrows? What avails it, if so be 
That such my melancholy sad delight 
May profit others ? Nature loves the sight 

Of ordered sameness in variety ; 

How many golden ears in harvest field 

Each like to each their full-grained treasure yield ! 


" We may speak much, and yet come short." 

How many coral clusters hang and swing 
Upon the mountain ash along the steep, 

Which with its blood-red berries seems to weep ! 
More are they multiplied the more they cling 
With roots into the rock from whence they spring ; 

For Nature from her treasures vast and deep 

With everlasting sameness loves to creep 
Into fresh being ; leaflets fluttering 

Into new life one impress strive to hold ; 

Till on one tree, alike though manifold, 

All fain would run into the self-same mould. 
The flowers that look erect or hang on ground, 
The stars that come forth in the blue profound, 
So numberless, yet seem alike around. 



" Thy statutes have been my songs : in the house of my pilgrimage. 

And if of English bards the chief and best, 

Shakespeare and Spenser, such their sonnets wove, 
On the loose intricacies of creature love ; 

Like each to each as speckled eggs in nest, 

Or azure pearls upon their fair one's breast, 
Or plumes on neck of the impassioned dove, 
Or bubbles which on Ocean's surface move, 

Thrown from his labourings deep and dark unrest, 
As with the breeze they sport or catch the gleam : 
Then may I not unblamed, from thoughts that teem 
Mid flowers of Paradise, a nobler theme 

Construct in semblance of the honied cells ; 

And, as the self- same measure falls and swells, 

Ring on from morn to eve my music bells ? 



fyey bxxtieb aitb laifc xn a 
neto Umbigc&xd ty&t mp 
heart ma^ become to Wqee 
as it tt>ere agJL&xxons 
sepulture, arto ffyai j**fjl 
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£pirti of mp mtnfc , Jl 
ma^ be aromnfeb tturrtbir</ 
of Betnd raises from J*F|| 
the beset amotto, ©foj) 
Saints anb elect rijilbrerc. 

<? &od, Who didst design to ie lorn, of men. 
that Thou, inightzst make men to become sons 
of Godj we j?ray Thee that those whom Thou 
hastfJled with the bread of children, Thou wtU- 
abundandy sanctify with tfic spirit of 
adoption, Who Uvetk &c. 

God, Who art our glory and rejoicing, grant 
that in the sweetness of this Sacrament, we 
^rruiy despise the vain delights of the world, 
and follow the examples of Tliy Saints , which 
:rh en in thz world were not of the world, and had 
no ]oy hut in Thet-j through ourLordSic. 





Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath days, or to do evil ? to save life, or to kill V 

Jerusalem, is this thy Sabbath deep 

Which with this dreadful stillness doth begin, 
After the many-voiced and murderous din, 

Where thou wouldst have thy Lord His rest to keep, 

In zeal against His life ? wondrous sleep, 
Which speaks in Thy redeemed a rest from sin ; 
A rest which is with Thee that tomb within, — 

Rest in the Rock which shall their senses steep 
In a forgetfulness of all beside, — 
A Sabbath wherein Thou Thyself shalt hide, 

And work again Thy healing miracles 

Among the dead and dying ; and from thence 
Choose Thine own penitent that dies to sense, 

And with Thee in the eternal Sabbath dwells. 


" We are buried with Him by Baptism unto death." 

Where is Thy resting-place, Lord, after all 

The sufferings of Thy Flesh so long and keen ? 

Where dost thou keep Thy Sabbath all unseen ? 
Make Thou my heart as this sepulchral hall, 
Though filled with recollections that appal ; 

Till from a sepulchre, by Thee made clean, 

It shall become a temple all serene. 
The World doth still against Thee press her call, 

Some whisper grave and low, and mourning sigh, 

And others loudly cry out, Crucify ! 
Yea, in each heart the Priests and multitude 
Against Thee rise. With locks all dripping blood, 

Where shalt Thou rest in the wide world forlorn, 

But in the new-made breast of them that mourn ? 


" Behold, I stand at the door and knock." 

As Thou didst not abhor the Virgin's womb, 
Nor the cold uncouth manger, and the stall 
Of the rude hinds and bleating animal, 
Nor childhood's bands and Nazareth's low room, 
Nor touch of unclean sinner, nor the gloom 
Of Ades, nor the over-hanging cave, 
Shrouding Thee round with darkness of the grave ; 
But as the Sun vile places doth illume 
Untainted by the foulness, so didst Thou, 
Loving that lowliness which stoop' d so low 
From the Heaven of Heavens, still lowlier love to bow 
To meanest things on earth, yet take no stain. — 
Then wilt Thou not a humble Guest sustain — 
To enter my poor heart, and there remain ? 


They shall look upon Me Whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for Me 
as one mourneth for his only son.'' 

Hard hath my heart been as the stony rock, 
Yet therein would I make a place for Thee, 
Where nought that breathes of mortal vanity 

May more be laid, which might Thy sorrows mock ; 

But mournful Contemplation with a stock 

Of better thoughts wait on Thee in my breast. 
And if Thou thus wouldst deign with me to rest, 

I would 'gainst all things else my senses lock ; 
Like a closed sepulchre, where the rock weeps, 

From very coldness, the ethereal dew 

Condensing into drops, where hid from view 
Around the cave the weeping moisture creeps. 
So in this evening of my waning years 
I would therein receive Thee with my tears. 

. 5. 

" Let us also go, that we may die with Him." 

And if in soul and body, by long pain, 

All that is earthly shall be mortified, 

And Thou therein Thy quickening Presence hide, 
That which is stony wilt Thou burst in twain, 
As from stern Winter's womb, and rise and reign 

In vernal resurrection, to abide 

Here in new life by sorrow sanctified 
Awhile, her course of trial to sustain, 

And then arise to Heaven ; and here below 

The tide of all my thoughts, that ebb and flow 
In joy or sadness, may in either still 

Be quickened by an all- inspiring Love, 
And so may move obedient to Thy will, 

Responsive to the drawings from above. 



" My flesh trembleth for fear of Thee, and I am afraid of Thy judgments. 

Would that my heart were meet to be Thy rest 
In holy stillness ; would that I might dwell 
With Thee alone in this Thy rocky cell, 

And shut out all the world ! thought most blest, 

And yet of all most dreadful, dispossessed 

Of all things which the self-proud spirit swell, 
To be alone with Thee — approachable 

By nought but holy thoughts, or thoughts distressed 
That yearn to be so ! As the solemn night 

In contemplation wrapt and silent gloom, 

With all her stars and covering of thick shade ; 

So this our burial with Thee in the tomb 
Is semblance of the time when out of sight 
The disembodied soul with Thee is laid. 








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GGod.Wko cUdst deign to be a&ioest in 
i?ct house of Z-axaras, Martha. , and 
Mary; grant thai with Lax-arics we -may 
walk in, nevmess of life; may feed Thte in. 
Thy poor ynthMartka., and, by TTitditation, 
-may vrrfk, Mary feed an, Thy word,- 


ZoraLJesu,Wko art pleased by these Divine, 

sacraments to be a Guest vn us, grant us, -we. 

i pray Thee, to be. partakers of those lieavenly 

blessings, whudvThvu, didst shedi ahu/u- 

leuitly on, Lazarus. Martha, and Mary, 

those, sacred friends w?iom Thoio 
didst deign to visit?. 





•will make it as the mourning of an only son, and the end thereof as a bitter day. 

Comes Nicodemus too ? not as of old 
Muffling his face in mantle of the night, 
To hold his converse with the Prince of light, 

But even by despair now rendered bold. 

blessed hands that lifeless frame to hold, 
And bear ! mournful beatific sight ! 
With eloquent tongue of that sepulchral rite 

Ordained of old, whose fragrant sweets enfold, 
'And speak of Resurrection in the grave ! 
He dies, when others He had power to save ; 

While women hang the speechless head and weep : 

As when some shepherd for his helpless sheep 
Is slain, and prostrate lies upon the ground, 
His flock like downcast mourners stand around. 



" His rest shall be glorious." 

Yea, company most blest, most sad below, 

With odours sweet, (0 contravention strange !) 
To antedate of death the loathsome change ; 

As if to struggle with the last dread foe 

E'en in his own dark kingdom, nor forego 
The prey that seemed already his, but plant 
Tokens of joy and living covenant 

E'en in corruption's range of utter woe. 

With linen white and clean for the dark tomb, 
Like spotless snow from Heaven in winter's gloom, 

Falling upon some still and shadowy night, 

While stars keep watch throughout the infinite ; 

To shelter with its covering soft and bright 
Dead nature — ere it put on vernal bloom. 


" And with the rich in His death." 

But what are these, the costly liniment, 

Sabean odours, Araby's perfume, 

That wrap His pallid Body in the tomb ? 
Was it for this, in sad presentiment, 
Kings from the rich and fragrant East were sent 

To where that star's pale radiance did illume 
That stable-cave, wherein a Mother leant 

Upon the offspring of her Virgin womb ? 
When festal scents of myrrh and frankincense 

Were soon to blend with weeping Rachel's cry, 
And dying shrieks of murdered Innocents, — 
While kingly worshippers around Him press, 

And Tyrian garb and gold of Araby 
Seemed but to mock His cold and nakedness. 



" A bundle of myrrh is my Well-Beloved unto me." 

But what may these the odorous spices mean 

That are with Thee within the winding-sheet ? 

It is the embalming of affections sweet 
From bodies mortified and souls serene, 
That tend Thee in that "linen white and clean," 

Which is " the righteousness of saints," made meet 

Around Thy bleeding Head and wounded Feet 
To watch, and in the silent heart unseen, — 

Embalming with the sighs of pensive love, 
Which fragrance hath of immortality, 

And finds a place among those souls that prove 
Dead to this world of sense, and hide with Thee ; 

Like Magdalene, whose praise is seal'd above, 
And breathes on earth for ages yet to be. 


" In the secret place of His dwelling shall He hide me." 

When such affections in the heart are found, 

They ever love the solitude and shade, 

And covered in the grave with Christ are laid ; 
As lies the fleecy mantle on the ground 
Sheltering the roots, which shall anon abound 

With Resurrection ; or as buds, afraid 

Of gales severe or gentle, have arrayed 
Themselves in leafy coverings all around ; 

Or as the flowers that ope their dewy cup 

To their own sun, but soon again fold up 
Their fragrant bosom from the nightly dew, 

Or nipping blasts ; e'en so themselves unclose 
To Christ the heart's affections ; then from view 

Hide in the tomb with Him, and there repose. 



" Woe is me! for I am undone ; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell 
in the midst of a people of unclean lips : for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord 
of Hosts." 

that the wondrous secrets of Thine Ark, 
The Godhead and the Manhood joined in one, 
Were safe in the withdrawals of Thy throne 

From tongues of busy men, where shadows dark 

Environ, and no eye of man can mark, 

Where Faith and Love may entering be alone, 
And feed on thoughts to adoration known. 

Yet there intrude rash men to blow the spark 
Of angry disputations, from the coal 

Ta'en from Thine Altar, fill'd with fire of Heaven, 
To sanctify the lips, and cleanse the soul. 

While at Thy shrine, whence worshippers are driven, 
Range disputants which on each other frown, 
Where Angels veil their faces and bow down. 


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^arfcaiter* x>£ Ql&£ 

IviF arc ma^ walk itt twvnew 
■■JD^ p<2rf Ames 

v ' *-H^- 

L;st agathaT'"" 1 ] 

(7 God. Who givest us vithis Thy Sacrament 
the earnest of MernalJoyS/ grant flwtwcmwf 
imitate Ike cons tana (f wis ]hy youtrtfui 
servant, who uilw aesires-aftertmruriahif ■ 
■made haste -unto death- through ot 
lord J 

AbrwiHj GotL, iy whose out the hksscoL 
AgaAa oolmneot the paM of Urgvwty 

" Marb/roLtmt, grant us to preserve 
purify of hotter and mzrul, thai ~we he 
not overcome oy the allurements of -die 
ilejh nor the bitterness of jufhings, Vtrtrugk 






Now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept. 

How beautiful to watch the rising sun, 
Afar upon the horizon's radiant brim 
Appearing, mid the gathering shadows dim, 

With all which ere his course hath yet begun 
His rising bright are wont to wait upon ; 

With clouds like burning robes of Seraphim 

Around him, and Creation's varied hymn 
Greeting his coming with her benison ! 
Daily memorial of that glorious morn, 

When the foundations of the world were laid, 
And sons of God in multitudinous chime 
Were heard, — prelusive of this better time, 
Whereon the new creation first is born, 

Arising from a night of darker shade. 


I will yet make doctrine to shine as the morning, and will send forth her light afar off.' 

And if Creation to our sight restored 
Such daily reminiscence brings to view, 
Much more shall kingdoms of His grace renew 

Memorials of her dead and rising Lord, 

When in our heart of hearts, the Morning true, 

He comes, our daily Bread, — loved and adored, — 
The Light of lights on our Baptismal dew 

Fresh shining with new day ; the Living Word, 
At whose command arose light's order stern 

From the abyss, and onward moves till now. 
Thus oft as from Thine Altar I return, 
Thy Resurrection doth within me burn ; 

Streams of fresh light upon my spirits flow, 

And bathe my dull affections with their glow. 


Neither have entered into the heart of man the tilings which God hath prepared. 

But if all power is wont to hide from sight, 
Like God and His good Angels ; as the wind 
Impels and moulds the clouds, as viewless mind 

Moves matter, and in mind the impervious might 

Of reason, passion, or the spiritual light 
Energise on the will, the purpose bind, 
With all its secret movements intertwined ; — 

Much less can aught of sense discern aright, 

When at God's holy Altar, with new dawn, 

And healing on His wings, there doth arise 
The Sun of Righteousness ; and in the soul 

From feeling and impassioned sense withdrawn, 
Incarnate God, the Living Altar-coal, 

Enters the soul, the body sanctifies. 



" If Christ be not raised, your faith is vain ; ye are yet in your sins." 

Christ rises ; — -lightning-stricken at the sight, 

The armed soldiery, whcT at the tomb 

Kept their unholy watch, and walked the gloom, 
Fall back, their faces hide in dread affright, 
And like the scared shadows of the night 

Hasten away : as when the aerial dome 

The rising moon doth suddenly illume, 
With silent intervention calm and bright 

Just rising, and the clouds departing fly, 
And flying feebly catch her silver ray. 

E'en so those Heathen thoughts which held their sway, 
And ever in the heart were hiding nigh, 

When Christ doth visit us before His way 
Shall flee, and He shall fill the untroubled sky. 

If we have been planted together in the likeness of His death, -we shall be also 
in the likeness of His Resurrection." 

Christ rises ; — not alone, with Him His own 
Are rising from their graves, and burst the veil, 
And look again on this their earthly jail ; 

E'en as the moon doth not arise alone, 

But watchful sentinels attend her throne, 

Yet love that they themselves should fade and fail, 
In her surpassing lustre dim and pale. 

'Tis thus when Christ within the soul made known 
His glorious Resurrection shall declare, 

His love and light shall dissipate the gloom ; 

Nor shall He thither unattended come, 

But all the graces with Him make their home, 
When He the darkness of the soul lays bare, 
Fain to vouchsafe His gracious Presence there. 



By tbe blood of Thy covenant I have sent forth Thy prisoners out of the pit 
wherein there is no water," 

" Unbind the grave-clothes, loose him, let him go !" 
So spake the Lord when Lazarus had risen 
From the dark night of death's mysterious prison, 

Opening his eyes to see the day ; and so 

His ministers absolve, and heal the woe, 
And from death-fetters set the sinner free, 
Ere he at table sits, good Lord, with Thee. 

And witnesses there are of all below ; 

As when Christ left the unbroken virgin tomb, 

An Angel roll'd away the heavy stone, 

In witness of the triumphs He had won. 
Thus, too, the blessed Angels at the end, 
In the great Resurrection, shall descend, — 
A solemn witness on each soul attend. 


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«' AMEN. 


l/ Glw?. ^fo oUclaresv fiiat Tkmirilt 
iwcU among st^u* straws inihtpure in 
heart: ai'xwt Ouxt after -thi example of 
JTifSer.-am Qa^w^Mthrowpi- ibj 
grace canH/iUC Such- as l?uv, {Usgntvt 
to oLwtU in-, ~Whc Urestmil reignest 

j 5gg / • -. 

[^S^ CAT H AR1N E J 

SbrngUf axZ 2 a . ' • Wfo> (hoo&cst 

-y dory: of 9u. ffofUk tv cmracvi 
%e iMngS tilrt arc 
ifrnrzt mat ft faith, t*b -nugrwWw S& 
'co.istancj of fids Tfy Mavfr -ftrmajn, 

OUT Jjtrra. 






" Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone." 

Thou that art in the rocky clefts, my Dove ; 

Thou that in secret of the stairs dost dwell, 

And hidest Thee within Thy stony cell, — 
Oh, let me see Thy countenance of love ; 
Oh, let me hear Thy voice ; as from above 

The day breaks and the shadows flee away. 

Winter is past and gone ; the young harts stray 
Upon the hills ; the turtle in the grove 

Anticipates the dawn, heard though unseen 

Mid the dark pine-tree tops and tender green 
Of vine and fig-tree ; and the lilies bright 

Put forth their ilowrets from the leafy screen. 
And who is she looks forth, as morning light, 
Expecting X Rise, my soul, to meet this sight ! 



" I love them that love Me ; and those that seek Me earlj shall find Me." 

I hear His voice : " Before the dawning day, 

Lo, at thy door before the morning light 
I knock ; arise My love/' I hear him say, 
" Arise, my love, my fair one, come away : 
My locks are dripping with the dews of night, 
My head is filled with dew. Come to My sight, 
Open the door, together take our flight, 
And in our own celestial gardens stray : 

The fountains are unsealed, the south-winds blow, 
And from their beds the breathing spices flow. 
Come, let us see if tender grapes appear 
Upon our vine, if summer yet be near. 

Rise up and haste ; for all the rest are gone : 
My love, my undefiled is but one." 


With my soul have I desired Thee in the night ; yea, with my spirit within me 
will I seek Thee early." 

My bowels while He spake were in me moved ; 

To my Beloved I opened, and the dawn 

Was there ; but my Light had Himself withdrawn. 
I sought, but could not find Him. My Beloved, 
I call Thee, but Thou answerest not. I roved, 

And in the twilight sought, but He was gone. 

Thou so early found, but lost too soon, 
Where shall I seek Thy countenance unreproved ? 

My heart is faint within me. Is it so, 
That I must ever seek Thee, and complain ; 

Still hear Thy voice, and ever wandering go 
After the sound, yet ask for Thee in vain ; 

Feeling Thee near, and strive Thy feet to hold, 

And, finding nothing, grasp Thy mantle's fold? 



" That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after Him, and find 
Him, though He he not far from every one of us." 

Soft was His Presence as the gentle snow, 

That falls from Heaven and lies upon the ground, 
Then vanishes, that not a trace is found 

Where it had been ; or as the witness bow, 

Fearful though bright, that hastening seems to go 
As gently as it came. Such dread profound, 
Such light and gloom, such tears and gleams abound 

Upon its stay, that ere we seemed to know 
And calculate our promise, it was fled. 
Yet oft returns His Presence from the dead, 

We know not how, but mid this earthly storm 

He promised, and He hastens to perform, 
In sacramental sign, by which we live, 
The covenanted promise to forgive. 


What is commanded thee, think thereupon with reverence ; it is not needful for 
thee to see with thine eyes the things that are in secret." 

Where doth the Mother veil her weeping eyes ? 
Doth Christ unto her longing sight reveal 
His Presence, on her grief in silence steal ? 

Or cheer her soul in some celestial guise ? 

On such, the hidden secret of the skies, — 
Whereon the All- Wise Spirit sets the seal 
Of silence, from our searches to conceal, 

With the thick veil of thrice six centuries, — 
Let not man's curious judgment there intrude, 
Nor in that awe-encompassed solitude 

Set foot ; lest error should herself entwine 

To blend with human fiction truth divine ; 

And blindness strike our thoughts, too bold of heart, 
Which dare to look where Christ doth stand apart. 



" Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." 

And Faith, with marvel-working influence, 
Vouchsafes a blessedness beyond the sight, 
Which lies within, far deeper than the light 

That visits our gross eyes ; with other sense 

Than that which is by fleshly instruments 
Adoring sees, and feels, and knows delight : 
Sure man's high-wrought imaginings may blight 

The majesty retired and reverence 

Due to immortal Truth. We know full well 

What He reveals is as a sea replete 

With knowledge and with wisdom ; and if meet 
That when He speaks we should in trembling dwell 

On all that issues from His holy seat, 
His silence too is most adorable. 



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1 25 


In that day shall the Lord of Hosts be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem oi 
beauty, unto the residue of His people." 

glorious, wonderful, and blessed days, 

When Christ full oft at each accustomed scene 

Walked in the Resurrection, — oft unseen, 
And oft appearing to the adoring gaze ; 
At morn or eve, on travellers' pensive ways, 

By rocky cove, or shore, or mount serene, 

Or at the social board, would intervene, 
In veil of flesh hiding His Godhead's blaze ; 

Unknown, yet well known ; in such marvellous change, 
Like the impalpable air, in stillness brought 
Through close-barred doors, silent, swift, calm as thought, 

Yet palpable : in vast and boundless range, 
Setting the laws of matter all at naught, 

And yet the same in transmutation strange. 


It doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but we know that when He shall appear, 
we shall be like Him." 

Great earnest of the time when, cleansed from sin, 
The Saints shall rise with bodies glorified, 
Like half-transparent veils to flesh allied, 

Yet changed ; when those affections which have been 

Growing into the soul, and laid therein 
By fiery trials, shall no longer hide, 
But on the outward features shall abide, 

Like fervid emanations from within, 

Which mould the breathing form and character, 
And impress of the soul. vision fair, 

That meets not human eye or human thought, 

But sets our dull imaginings at naught, 

When these our earthly frames, divinely wrought 
And purified, with Christ Himself appear ! 


" When I awake up after Thy likeness, I shall be satisfied with it. 

When our insensate limbs lie on the bed 
Of sleep, on the live spirit visions break, 
Which then without the body is awake. 

And if it be, as holy men have said, 

That sleep is but an image of the dead, — 
What time the soul the lifeless body leaves, 
And to new being lives, and joys, and grieves, - 

Then things which here we most have cherished 
May blend with visions of that after-sight, 
As here in dreams of woe or keen delight ; 
But when our souls and bodies shall unite, 

Then it may be as when we ope our eyes 

At waking, and with sense regained arise 

To woe or joy's substantial verities. 



" They shall walk with Me in white." 

I see a company bright with new light, 
That moving form a silver galaxy, 
Mid trees of Paradise that hang thereby ; 

Where waters, clear as flowing chrysolite, 

From an o'erhanging cave flow down the height ; 
O'er each, with a distinctness all his own, 
A starry effluence hath formed a crown ; 

And by the side of each there comes to sight 
A winged angel, with endearing face, 
Or guidance leading on, or calm embrace ; 

And some before the rest, within a stream 
Of silver rays, which from the portal pours, 
Rising, approach the everlasting doors, 

Borne from their feet, and whitening in the beam. 


" Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men." 

And over all there lay a bright serene, 

A calm no man can speak, whose dread repose 
Lifted it up above the joys and woes 

Of this our turbulent unquiet scene, 

And set apart : thus onward are they seen 
Advancing ; if it motion could be called 
That was so like repose, whose peace appalled 

The looker-on of earth, and rose between 

This world and Heaven : while here a glorious group, 

Turned Heaven-ward in its still slow measured dance, 

Did Eastward through the lustrous trees advance : 
While others from behind, in lengthened troop, 
Looked up to where an angel seemed to stoop, 

With trumpet- voice, and held their sense in trance. 



" The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God." 

But if no hand or thought can rightly paint 
That scene so terrible and yet so fair, 
Much less can mortal thought, — by grovelling care, 

Or low pursuit, or the defiling taint 

Of foul imaginings void of restraint, 

Made sensual, — from things of earth, sea, air, 
Learn aught of those bright things beyond compare. 

Yea, saintly souls themselves are frail and faint 
Aught to conceive of that high blessedness : 

They gain no glimpse, or if they should attain, 
Yet find no words that vision to express ; 

Or if they language find to speak, no less 
Their burning words to others speak in vain, 
Who hear but cannot understand the strain. 


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J 29 



Who raaketh the clouds His chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind. 

He hath gone up on high, the Heavens appear 
To stoop for Him, and earth itself to rise 
To send Him thither ; henceforth earth and skies 
Seem as if reconciled to draw more near, 
While for His Saints He is preparing there 
A place, though hidden from our mortal eyes ; 
And in those hearts which unto Him arise 
By His descending gracious Comforter, 
Preparing for Himself a place below, 
From mortal eyes though hidden, — with new laws 
Thus lifted up the souls of men He draws 
After Him, where above He pleads their cause, — 
Draws after Him, as sparks that upward go, 
And rise unto the sun from whence they flow. 


If thou see me when I am taken from thee, it shall be so unto thee : but if not, it 
shall not be so." 

As from an exile's sad and ruin'd coast, 

They who would send one to prepare a home 

In happier climes, where they themselves would come, 

And watch him in departing ; yet, when lost, 

Miss his protecting hand, and feel then most 
Bereaved ; so we, where clouds the skies illume, 
Watch Him ascend, and feel an evening gloom 

Steal o'er us on our way by shadows cross' d. 
But if our hearts we wean from things of sense, 
And cleanse our eyes by faith and abstinence 
To see Him still in His departing hence, 

The mantle of His peace shall on us rest, 

His Spirit's double portion fill our breast; 

And we e'en by His absence be more blest. 

Yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we 
Him no more." 

"Tis said, in love there is this mystery, 
That we cannot recall the absent glance, 
Nor very self of a dear countenance, 
When far away ; of this the cause may be 
That those we love are one with us, and we 
Cannot behold ourselves. When out of sight 
Thus love runs forth to what is infinite ; 
And so the more we love, the less we see : 

For it is given to feed on the Divine, 
When we the human lose ; and the Unseen 
Comes to be with us more, the more we wean 

Our thoughts from what is sensible. Be mine 
The better part to see not, yet believe : 
Although the more I love, the more I grieve. 



" For the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle 
weigheth down the mind." 

The human soul is yearning after love, 
And finding not still feels itself alone, 
Turning from side to side with ceaseless moan ; 

Or finding what may her affections move, 

The object of her love turns to reprove, 
By misplaced trust, or stern disunion, 
Or disappointment ; or if raised to One, 

Who is the Everlasting rest above 

Of Spirits divine, though for awhile unseen ; 

The more her inward poverty she knows, 

And finds unrest in seeking for repose : 
Nor can sustain her to those heights serene 

Against the attractions of our lower birth, 

Whose gravitation draws her back to earth. 


; He that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he 
hath not seen^?" 

But since our God Incarnate is on high, 

And in mysterious channels from the skies 
Blends with our fallen nature ; and brought nigh 

Flows into all our human sympathies, 
The everlasting Life of those that die ; 
No longer may our love thus buried lie 

In low-born cares, with not a thought to rise, 

And walk amid those pure societies ; 
Till life itself becomes the sepulchre 

Of the undying soul ; itself the prey 

Of creeping things, or things far worse than they ; 
Imbedded in unworthy hope and fear, 

Ere in the tomb, in its appointed day, 
Its mantle of corruption disappear. 




Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, though now ye see Him not, yet 
believing, ye rejoice." 

For now our very flesh He hath put on, 
And in the intricate spirit thus hath wound 
With involutions many and profound, 

And e'en from our corruption hath begun 

To hallow the affections He hath won, 

And feelings human and Divine hath bound 
To His own service ; with them to surround 

His place of rest and Sabbath : as the sun 
Drowns in itself all lesser fires to feed 

Its own, — itself afar yet wondrous near : 

So may He with regenerating fear 

As from our being's centre still proceed 
To every inmost feeling, word, and deed, — 

To every outward sense, and eye, and ear. 



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Their eyes saw the Majesty of His glory, and their ears heard His glorious voice. 

" Let there be Light !" God said : and at the sound, 
With varied order, beautiful and young, 
From the dead formless void Creation sprung, 
And sea and land with their alternate bound, 
And shining worlds that range the blue profound, 
With hills and woods, and beasts the hills among, 
And painted birds that in the forest sung, 
And flowers of scent and hue that deck'd the ground, 
And seas and streams where roam'd the finny herd. 
But how much more when that creative Word, 
The Gift Unspeakable on man conferr'd, 
Was seen in flaming tongues that came to sight, 
And heard in rushing winds of viewless might, 
Saying to man's dark soul, " Let there be Light!" 




" The vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak and not lie : 
though it tarry, wait for it ; because it will surely come, it will not tarry." 

" Let there be Light !" Dead matter heard of old, 

When the foundations of the world were laid, 

And e'en in hearing instantly obeyed. 
But twice nine hundred years have onward roll'd, 
Since with His gifts and graces manifold 

The Spirit hath gone forth with light arrayed, 

And the Almighty fiat hath been said ; 
Then why is the fulfilment yet untold ? 

There was of days a numbering and delay 
When rose this visible scene of earth and sky, 
Which hastes so fast to fade away and die : 

To the All-wise it needs a longer day, 

From the soul's endless ruin and decay, 
To form a world for immortality. 


" For a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday: seeing that is past as a 
watch in the night." 

It needs a longer time to reinstate : — 
The world arose in six days at His word, 
And clothed itself in beauty as it heard ; 
But ere the mighty water-floods abate, 
Which once have issued from the penal gate, 
When Ocean for its cleansing hath been stirr'd, 
By days and weeks and months must be deferred. 
It needs a once-lost world to renovate 

Much time, much suffering, many words, much price, 
Of God Himself the costly Sacrifice, 
With a long system of atoning pains 
In shadows or in substance, which remains 
From the beginning to the end of time, 
When all shall fill One Mighty Truth Sublime. 



As a drop of water unto the sea, and a gravel-stone in comparison of the sand ; 
so are a thousand years to the days of eternity." 

But if the things beheld so glorious seem, 

And long the time to be, and which hath been ; 

But yet how short the time, how poor the scene 
Compared with that which issues from this dream, 
Of which the sua is but a spark or beam ? 

And it may be, when death shall intervene, 

All time hath comprehended then is seen 
As instantaneous as a lightning gleam ; 

Or as when God first spake, and there was light. 
E'en now more old we grow, or more the soul 
Is in her view enlarged, or to the goal 

Draws near, more brief appear the things of sight : 
How short shall then appear this little whole, 

When we behold it from the shore aright ? 


" I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number. 

How populous, 'tis said, is solitude ! 

Men hear it, and receive the truth sublime, 
Yet mark not why. If rightly understood, 
It is the company of the wise and good : 
In solitude we pass from present time, 
Above the living crowd we needs must climb, 
And make the past and future our abode. 
Thus when in solitary thoughts we brood 

Upon the City which descends from high, 
Before and after are unnumber'd eyes, 
Such as are found in the eternal skies, 
More than the thickest earthly companies : 
And we may blend in the society 
Of Saints, which on the breast of Jesus lie. 



" Before man is life and death ; and whether him liketh shall be given him. : 

When at the Word of power creation rose, 
The elements to their appointed place 
All hastened, each to hold their separate space ; 

Earth, Sea, and Air, and Light and Darkness chose 

Each their own realms, and barriers interpose, 
Distinct in their gradations ; each his race 
To run, and to fulfil his day of grace. 

And we too, who have heard His voice, must close, 
And take our stations, or we are undone. 

That Word of power hath gone forth to all lands, 

With gifts, and benedictions, and commands ; 
And gather'd in unto the Holy One, 

Sprinkled with blood, each Saintly Spirit stands, 
Before the Lamb that sitteth on the throne. 




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